Play With Fire
by ESTF
Summary: Overcome by the lust he felt for his wife whom he left three years ago, he's determined to have her back. As it turns out, what Derrick Harrington, 12th Duke of Redvers, thought was his game of seduction soon becomes a conquest of his heart.
1. Chapter 1

_**Play With Fire is a story set in the 19th century about a rich and handsome duke who is forced to marry a viscount's daughter, a shy young woman who is four years younger than him. Because of his dazzling looks and irresistible charms, Lady Massie Block falls in love with him almost instantly. A few months after their marriage, Derrick Harrington leaves to travel around the world and to get away from his wife who he had gotten bored of with her tears and constant need of reassurance. Deeply hurt by his sudden no-goodbye departure, Massie decides to change her ways and become the woman he wanted her to be. But after a year of waiting for his return, she has come to terms with herself that he would never come back thus, she starts to live her life for her own and for those who need her. **_

_**Four years have passed and London society is taken aback by the estranged Duke of Redvers's sudden return. More handsome than before, women and past lovers flock around him. But then he comes face-to-face with a certain amber-eyed, auburn-haired beauty who happens to be his wife. Long gone was the innocent chit who spent most of her time shedding her tears and asking for reassurance. Facing him was a woman who knows what she wants, who gets what she wants, and who gives mulishness a whole new meaning. Despite her rejections and her attempts to shut him out, he's determined to have her back. But what happens when his emotions get in the way of his game of seduction?**_

_**Will they have a second chance in love? Or have they already missed their chance three years ago? **_

_****_**Revisited for grammatical and spelling errors: 12/14/11  
**

_London, May 1810_

It was only a matter of time before the bridegroom killed himself.

The Duke of Redvers stood at the entrance of the ballroom prepared for the wedding, surveying numerous guests socializing with each other as they waited for the wedding to begin, the crystal chandeliers illuminating the gilded room, the glittering light contending with the sparkle of jewels, the shimmer of silken ball gowns and gleaming coiffeurs ornamented with flowers and feathers, the satiny glow of bared shoulders and décolletages ― all the grandeur and brilliance of the fashionable beau monde assembled under his family's splendid Tie-polo ceiling.

And one by one, those guests took notice of the gloriously handsome young duke, or rather the bridegroom, standing in the doorway. His splendid height was attributed to the Harrington connection with Charles II, as were his excesses, although his dark good looks, everyone agreed, came from his mother's family. The DeLanceys had contributed beauty to England's bloodlines since the time of the Norman invasion. The faultless hand of his tailor was evident in the fit of his evening rig, the fine wool smoothly flowing over his lean, muscled form, his damask waistcoat subtle in tone, eggshell rather than white, calling attention even in its understatement to his taut, honed torso. Eschewing the hirsute fashions of the time, he was clean-shaven, his bronzed skin evidence of his devotion to sporting life. But what most attracted notoriety were his eyes. He had gypsy eyes, black as ebony, sensual, magnetic; some said it seemed as though he could see right through you. But those who knew him best saw the laughter and mischievous sparkle more often than not.

But tonight, those laughter and mischief were absent in his eyes. Instead, there were annoyance and controlled but visible rage in his dark, sinful eyes.

"Now, there you are, my friend!" His friend, Josh Hotz, suddenly appeared at his side and clapped his back roughly. "Contemplating your chances of escape?" He mocked.

Derrick shook the Viscount of Bathurst's arm off. "I'm not in the mood for some jokes tonight, Josh." He hissed.

His friend only laughed and decided to push him further. "Who scowls at his own wedding?"

"Shut the hell up, Bathurst, or I'll shove you down to the floor." Derrick threatened.

The Viscount only response was a chuckle. "Uh-oh. You've got a problem, mate." He jerked his chin towards the balcony.

Derrick followed his gaze and groaned.

The Countess of Groveland, one of Derrick's many lovers, made his way toward them, her bubbly skirts fluttering against the floor. The Countess, a lovely and sensuous young woman married to a man thrice her age, was one of the most beautiful women London society had ever seen. Her luxurious fuschia gown was tight and clinging to the right places. The cut was so deep that her voluptuous breasts were almost spilling out.

Stopping right in front of Derrick and Josh, her luscious red lips broke into a wide, familiar smile. "I think you forgot to mention to me a fortnight ago that you were getting married, Derrick, darling." She pouted. "I'm hurt. I had to find out from Griselda's servant of all people."

Derrick, known as the most notorious and youngest rake that had ever grazed the streets of London, smiled back, finding Alicia's bold display of one of her wonderful assets a difficulty to ignore her. "I apologize, my dear. It probably slipped my mind."

Alicia laughed a seductive laugh. And leaning close to Derrick, she whispered, "Will you still see me after your wedding?"

"Of course, darling, I will." Derrick replied. "This is merely a course I have to go through to appease my father's mind."

"Good to know then." Alicia said. "But, I'll surely can't help being jealous of that Block chit you're going to marry." She made a small moue.

Derrick chuckled darkly and took Alicia's hand, pulling her close. "As I said, my sweet darling, this marriage is just an amusement for me. I'd get a part of grandfather's inheritance, the chit's money, and a little wife to play with."

Alicia frowned at him. "You're richer than the king of England. Why do you have to marry her then?"

Derrick shrugged. "My father's plans. Now, don't pout, _ma chéri_. Remember, this is an arranged marriage. I had no say on this." He flashed her a dazzling smile.

Josh cleared his throat. "Looks, like it's time."

Everyone turned to face the entrance after a loud announcement was made of the bride's arrival. The nervous, fidgeting, young bride at that.

Massie Block felt as if the whole world was closing in on her as she stood anxiously with more than half of the _ton_ staring expectantly at her. She looked up at her father who was holding her hand, knowing he could feel her trembling.

Hazard Block, the Viscount of Ranelagh, took pity on his eighteen-year-old daughter but he knew she knew her duty. He knew she knew that it was customary for young eligible woman in the _ton _to get married not out of love. He knew she knew. But she was too young! God, she was too young! He wanted to kill himself for what he was doing to her, to her only child who was sweet and innocent and obedient. She was the only person he had left after his wife died and he should be taking care of her not marrying her off not only to someone she barely knew but to the most notorious profligate in London society.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to." Hazard whispered to her.

Despite what she was feeling, Massie knew her obligation and she knew what was expected of her. She will do her duty, take care of her father and deal with the rest independently. "I want to do this, Papa. I do." She said and added a smile to convince her father.

Hazard simply nodded and started to walk his daughter down the aisle. Upon reaching the front, he turned her to the Duke of Redvers and placed her hand on his. "Take care of her, Redvers, or by God, I will cut your head off." He threatened in a low voice just for Derrick to hear.

Derrick nodded. "You have my word, Ranelagh." And he faced himself and his bride front.

When the priest received the signal from the bridegroom's father to begin, he made the sign of the cross and then began his sermon on the responsibilities each would accept once they were truly husband and wife.

The recitation or the proclamation of their vows was simple enough and fast. Derrick promised to protect her and honor her while Massie vowed to obey him and try to love him.

"You are now husband and wife." The priest announced. Turning to Derrick, he said, "You may kiss the bride."

Derrick moved so fast that Massie let out a startled gasp when he pulled her roughly close to him and pressed his lips to hers roughly, forcing her mouth to open. Shocked by his aggressiveness, Massie didn't respond as fast as he wanted her to. But when he pushed his tongue into her mouth and touched hers, he felt her shiver and he inwardly smiled in triumph. Before he could get carried away, he pulled away and grinned ruefully at his dazed new wife.

The crowd was only mildly shocked by the brazen display the new couple posted, having been used to Derrick and his profligate ways. The men hooted with laughter and gave a round of applause while the women scowled and silently cursed the little bitch of Derrick's to hell.

Hazard, on the other hand, looked away from his daughter's innocent face, despising himself for what he had done to her. He turned around and went to the card room to ease the tension off.

The rest of the night was spent socializing with the guests. When dinner was over and the duke escorted Massie onto the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple, a sudden silence filled the room, the contrast between the young girl's delicate innocence and Derrick Harrington's unbridled sexuality so stark the audience was breathless with expectation.

Even the musicians were mesmerized by the sight and Lady Harrington had to frantically signal them to begin. The first bars of the waltz broke the uneasy hush, but all eyes were still on the lone couple on the ballroom floor, the initial dance reserved for the honored couple.

Uncomfortable with the silence and the feelings that radiated through her body due to the closeness of the Duke of Redvers, Massie tried to break the silence between them. She quietly cleared her throat. "Do you remember the first time we met?" She asked him in a low voice.

For the first time since she entered the room, Derrick allowed himself to look at his wife closely. Damn, he silently cursed. She was too young and too naïve for him. His eyes trailed down to her not-yet-developed breasts and let his fingers brush her skin, testing. Just like satin, he thought. And when he stared into her eyes, he was mesmerized by its unusual yet magnificent shade of amber and the complete trust he saw in them. It terrified him.

He was about to pull away and keep some distance between them when she unconsciously licked her bottom lip with her tongue.

"Christ." He muttered.

"Excuse me?" Massie wondered what she did to cause the frown that creased his forehead.

Derrick took a few calming breaths before answering. "No, no. I apologize. I still can't believe that I'm married now." He lied. Well, partly, he did.

Massie grinned sympathetically and apologetically at him. "You're not alone on that."

Derrick chuckled. It was deep and rich and utterly irresistible.

Massie felt as if she were drawn to him. He was breathtakingly handsome and was surprisingly kind to her. But what startled her most were the strange, new emotions coursing through her body, eliciting something deep inside her she hadn't known she had. By all accounts, he was a stranger to her. Well, she knew _of _him but she didn't _really _know him personally. Sure, their parents were friends but Derrick seldom joined them and whenever he did, he was always finding an excuse not to stay long. He preferred the company of his horses and his mistresses. Massie, meanwhile, rarely went out of the house. She mostly spent her time reading books in her papa's library or riding at their country house.

When she looked up at him, she realized he was staring at her with a brooding expression. She blushed and looked away at once.

He realized that the only way he could bed her properly and have her willing was if he kept on being nice to her. He had to do what he did best. Woo her.

Remembering Massie's previous question, he said, "I do remember meeting you for the first time. You were eight when your parents brought you with them to our house in Yorkshire where you spilled tea on my breeches and stained your dress with horse dirt."

Massie reddened again. "I was seven and I didn't mean to spill on you."

Derrick laughed a loud one which echoed all throughout the room.

Could she go redder than she already were? He wondered.

Seeing her discomfort was genuine, Derrick ceased his laughter and used his thumb to tilt Massie's face upward. "I was only trying to make you smile seeing that you're so nervous. I didn't mean to cause you discomfort. I apologize profusely." He politely said.

Dear God, she thought. Those beautiful eyes will be the death of her.

She shook her head at him. "No. It's all right. I admit I was pretty wild back then. But what can I say? I was a child."

He wasn't particularly listening to her. He was wondering whether she'd be wild in bed, too. But he knew she was a virgin. And having no experience with virgins, he didn't know how she would respond to him. Hotly, he hoped.

But virgin or not, he was determined to bed her tonight. After all, he was her husband and she was his wife. If he couldn't spend the night at Hattie's brothel tonight with one or two of the experienced women there, at least he'll still have a woman to warm his bed tonight.

His train of thought guided his eyes down to her full and luscious lips. Jesus! He thought aggravatingly. How long did this first dance usually go? Half an hour? An hour? An hour and a half? He wasn't even sure if he could wait ten minutes more.

He took a deep breath once again and spun them around, curbing the urge to drag her to the nearest bedroom.

It was going to be a long night.

"Can you believe that bitch?" The Countess of Groveland hissed at Josh while they stood near the doorway, watching the new couple dance.

"Lower your voice down, Alicia. People are staring at you." Josh warned her quietly, smiling reassuringly at the men and women glancing towards them.

Alicia ignored him. "Look at how she presses herself so wantonly to him. The little wench."

Josh rolled his eyes and knew there was no way he could shut her up. Instead, he focused his attention Derrick's new wife.

He wouldn't call her beautiful, that was the first thing that entered his mind. She was pretty, yes, but in a childish way which Derrick didn't like in his women. She was such an innocent and she wore her heart at her sleeve. And judging by the way she was looking up so adoringly at Derrick, Josh knew she was already falling in love with him. As were all the women in London society. And knowing Derrick, he'd crush the sweet little child by sunrise.

If only he was the one she'd married. Although he was a Romeo in nature, he knew how to distinguish a good woman from a bad one. He also knew how to treat a good woman. Two things the Duke of Redvers hadn't mastered yet. To his eyes, every girl was the same: a play toy to pick up and dump after he'd get bored of them.

The Earl of Bathurst's heart went out for the new Duchess of Redvers.

It was well past midnight when the duke and duchess finally left the reception.

Helping Massie up into his large and elegantly-designed carriage, he climbed up and closed the door behind him. Shouting his signal to his man, Tom, the carriage drove out to the dark streets of London.

Massie was squeezed up against the farthest corner because Derrick's large frame was mostly occupying the space. Since he looked so worn out and almost asleep, Massie thought it was better if she didn't complain. She much more preferred the silence. But as the carriage rode away, a sudden realization struck her.

It was going to be their wedding night.

At an early age, her mother had already talked to her about the foremost responsibility a wife has to her husband which was to give him children. Much, much later, when she was already fourteen, Maria, her mother's lady's maid, told her how the marriage act was done. Of course, not in vivid details but it was enough to have her prepare for the inevitable.

And now, tonight, she was finally going to do it.

With her husband.

With the sinfully handsome and sexy as hell, Derrick Harrington.

She felt her insides jump in reaction.

"Are you feeling ill?"

Derrick's question jarred her back to the present. Massie turned to look at him, confused. "No, why?" She asked.

He didn't look away from her. "Your face is whiter than your gown, you're gripping your hands together and I can feel you trembling from here." He spoke matter-of-factly.

Massie blushed and tried to lower down her trembling.

"Ah, finally." Derrick said with a smile, making Massie's eyes shoot back to him. "Some color on your cheeks."

Massie couldn't help but smile back. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired." And she turned to stare at the darkness outside.

He knew that wasn't the reason why she was on the edge. He knew because that was what he was thinking, too. But in a different and more creative way.

Reaching out to place his hand on hers, he waited until she turned to look at him. "Don't be afraid." He murmured. "I won't hurt you."

He really was beautiful. Breathtakingly, inhumanly, and devilishly beautiful. Like Adonis. No, Massie concluded on second thought. Adonis couldn't top Derrick Harrington's beauty. But there was gentleness in his ebony eyes that Massie had not seen before. That gentleness overshadowed his dark hair, tall and lithe body, and even his reputation of being the best in the field of pleasuring women. That gentleness made him human.

"Trust me." Derrick added in a soft voice when she didn't speak.

Massie resisted the urge to snort.

She did not only trust him. She was already in love with him.

God help her.

Upon arriving at Derrick's townhouse, he led Massie to the majestic foyer and hastily introduced her to his staff. After the introductions were finished, he pulled Massie along with him up the grand staircase and into his bedroom.

Derrick's bedroom was every bit as masculine and appealing as he was. The bed faced the door. It was incredibly large in size and was covered with a dark chocolate brown quilt. The walls had been painted a rich beige color, an appropriate backdrop, Massie thought, for the beautiful pieces of mahogany wood furniture.

Two windows flanked the headboard posters and were draped with beige satin. Someone must have removed the ties holding the material away from the window panes so that the room would be closeted from the street below.

There was a door on Massie's left that led into the bathroom, and another door on her right, next to a tall, wooden privacy screen.

"This is a wonderful house." Massie remarked, trying to ease the tension off, as Derrick moved to light the room. "You chose well."

"Thank you." He said, glancing back at her. "I bought it from a friend who migrated to America a few years ago."

Massie didn't know what to say so she simply nodded.

She watched him light half of the candles in the room, gripping her hands behind her. When he sat down on the foot of the bed and started taking his boots off, Massie's heart beat quickened its pace and she could feel blood rushing up to her cheeks.

Derrick leaned back with his elbows propped behind him, staring at her with an amused look on his face.

She didn't know what she was supposed to do. Should she walk to him or was he the one supposed to come to her? Should she take her clothes off now or was he the one going to do that task? She was a wreck inside and her muddled thoughts and questions weren't entirely helping.

Derrick stared at his bride's frown, wondering what on earth she was thinking about. His lust was definitely uncontrollable now and he wasn't sure if he could stop once he started. So he took his time, watching her, waiting for her to calm down, at the same time waiting for his carnal urges to subside, too.

A moment later, he said, "Come here."

Without thinking, Massie moved to obey and went to him. Stopping right a foot from where he was, she gripped her hands tighter, anticipating his next command.

Slowly, he pulled her on top of him, his chest cushioning her fall. He wrapped an arm around her waist while his other hand came up to brush the hair away from her cheeks. He could feel her heart beating rapidly so he placed a light kiss on her cheek and tucked her head under his chin.

It took Massie a few moments before she realized he was just holding her, doing nothing else more.

She pulled away slightly from him and looked up to him. "Did you change your mind?" She asked quietly.

Derrick looked down at her and smiled. "I'm giving you time to relax, darling." He said as his hand caressed her back.

The endearment said so softly and sensuously caused a reaction deep inside her. "I'm sorry if I'm delaying you. I'm all right now." She lied.

Derrick knew it, though. He just kept trailing feather light caresses up and down her spine until he could feel her trembling with anticipation.

Perfect, he thought.

He tilted her face up using his thumb and brushed a chaste kiss on her lips. "I promise you'll be safe with me." He told her. "Don't be afraid." He repeated his promise earlier. "You'll like it. Trust me." The smile he gave her was one that could melt the coldest heart.

Massie simply nodded.

"Put your arms around me, Massie. Hold me while I kiss you." He whispered to her.

She wound her arms around his neck just as he leaned down and began to nibble on her lips. His tongue traced inside of her lower lip, sending shivers down her spin. She tightened her hold and climbed herself up his body a few more inches so she could deepen the kiss.

He was driving her crazy teasing her lips with his tongue, his teeth. She couldn't put up with the gentle torment any longer. She tugged impatiently on his hair, telling him without words she wanted more.

His mouth finally settled on top of hers in a gentle caress and his tongue eased inside to stroke hers. He acted as though he had all the time in the world. He was slow, deliberate, exerting only scant pressure as he nudged the fires passion inside her.

Her soft moan told him how much she liked what he was doing to her. He pulled back, saw the passion in her eyes, knew it was mirrored in his own, and let out a low groan of his own. "So sweet." He whispered against her mouth. "Open up for me." He commanded in a rough whisper.

He didn't give her time to comply with that order but used his thumb to force her chin down. His tongue thrust inside, then retreated before penetrating again. She went all soft and willing on him, ad that innocent response made him forget going slow. He was suddenly hungry for her he couldn't control his pace. His mouth became hard, demanding. The love play between their tongues ― his bold, hers timid ― made them both shake with desire.

It was only moments before they lay naked on bed, entangled with each other, exploring each other's body ― Massie for the first time, Derrick God knows how many times.

It was a night filled with passion.

It was a night filled with pretenses.


	2. Chapter 2

**I know it's been sooo long but I got sick a week ago and then during the following days, I've been busy with school. So, my darlings, please forgive me if I made you wait for so long. I already explained in the first chapter that my updating time is not guaranteed so please, just endure with me. Yes, not updating is such a pain in the ass for me and my dear conscience. **

**And, thank you thank you for all the reviews. You couldn't imagine how they made me so happy.**

**In a random note, I have just recently discovered that I'm madly in love with Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. Dramione all the way! oh, and that's one of the reasons why I just updated. :)) **

**I own nothing.  
**

Chapter 2

In the following days that passed, the new couple of Redvers hardly left their bedroom with only a few interruptions from their visiting friends.

Derrick had taught Massie the art of copulation. She was a willing and active student who amused him with her shyness and fresh bluntness. He never knew the girl with such innocence a man like him would more likely avoid at first sight turned into a very passionate woman in bed which made the sex even better. It was as if they were made for each other, two puzzles fitting each other perfectly. Every experience with her was breathtaking.

But, of course, the young Duke of Redvers ― the most sought after bachelor in the country ― was only in it for the pleasure. _His _pleasure.

The young lady in question, meanwhile, lived the next days that followed in utter bliss. Each day was a new undertaking and adventure for her, activities which she could share with the sinfully handsome Derrick Harrington. They explored each other's bodies with such ardency, almost carnal, that every time they ended, she had to pause to catch her breath. But they barely talked, though. And when they did talk, it was always about the happenings in the ton which unsurprisingly led into a favorite act of theirs that didn't include talking. Well, yes, Massie liked the things they did to each other but sometimes, when Derrick was already asleep, she found herself wanting to get to know her husband more, out of bed. What he liked and what he loathed… the things he did when he was a child… about his family… how he grew up… personal things. So, she asked him over breakfast which was, not to mention, delivered to their bedroom, about what kind of music he liked listening to and he merely shrugged in response. But Massie wasn't given time to contemplate his reply because for the following days, Derrick devoted himself to distract her. Creatively. In all ways.

It was after two weeks when both husband and wife were finally forced out of their beatific solitude. Just as Derrick and Massie were relaxing in Derrick's study in the early afternoon, voices were heard in the entrance hall.

"Guests, Your Grace." Trevor, his butler, announced.

Massie gave a start.

Derrick cast her a reassuring look as she opened her mouth t protest. "It's about time we entertain them, right, darling?" He gave her a stunning smile.

It was only fair and Massie knew it. He had already turned more than half of the ton away when they came to visit the newly wedded couple. "Of course, Derrick." She smiled back ruefully. "You're right." She had every good intention of being pleasant and friendly, but as the afternoon wore on into evening, even her best efforts couldn't withstand Alicia's persistent sweet malice as the hours stretched tediously one into another. No one, Massie thought while studying Alicia's fair face, has the right to be so flawlessly perfect.

Josh and Alicia had come in company with two other friends, Captains Cameron Fisher and Christopher Plovert. The drinking was deep and heavy. Massie declined spirits since they upset her lately while Alicia sipped delicately on champagne. The visitors had all been Derrick's friends since childhood, and were, in fact, present and introduced to Massie at the wedding so she listened bleakly as the conversation fell into reminiscing.

"Remember, Derrick," Alicia said at her sweetest, "when we all used to swim on those hot summer days in the river. For fourteen-year-old boys you were all quite childishly silly, swinging from ropes and pretending to be Viking pirates."

"Speaking of childish," Cameron Fisher interpolated, "who was the one who slipped frogs into everyone's bed at night?" and he cast an amused glance at Alicia.

She blushed prettily. "We were all young then."

"Josh had one of the chambermaids with him." Derrick explained to Massie, grinning boyishly, "and she let out a shriek heard halfway to Yorkshire when her foot touched that slimy little creature. Did you ever calm her down, Josh?" Derrick asked innocently.

"I managed to think of a way." Josh smirked, his pale green eyes narrowed in pensive memory.

"What about the time the dancers you had brought down from Paris were dancing nude in your private theater with all of us drunkenly enjoying the spectacle, when your mother and her friend stopped by unexpectedly?" Christopher Plovert asked facetiously. "You got hell for that embarrassment, I'll bet."

"Oh, Mama can always be talked around." Derrick drawled languidly. "She's always been a most indulgent parent. After having put up with Papa, I think nothing shocks her any longer."

Moving to the drawing room after dinner, Alicia insinuated herself with casual familiarity between Derrick and Josh on the embroidered settee. Brushing Derrick's cheek with her fingertips, she breathed intimately, "Derrick, dear, could I have more champagne?"

He rose to do her bidding, remarking cheerfully, "Alicia, you did always have a hollow leg when it comes to champagne. Let's put a bottle here" and he slapped it on a nearby table "so I don't have to keep on getting up."

"Thank you, Derrick." Alicia murmured softly as she kissed him in gratitude for his courtesy.

Good God, Josh thought. What was Derrick doing? Here he had Massie, as entrancing woman as anyone could wish, and he was openly flirting with Alicia. Vividly he recalled Massie's stricken look of a moment ago when Derrick had so ardently kissed Alicia. Josh had half a mind to importune Massie for himself and teach the callous bastard a lesson. She was astonishingly lovely and had an unmitigated mischievous sparkle in her eye at times that spoke of a spirited, irreverent nature. Massie would make a man a splendid, vivacious companion, and if Derrick so rudely disregarded her feelings, Josh would be more than happy to offer her solace.

Derrick was half drunk now and the intimate presence of Alicia seemed familiar and natural.

"Derrick, play for us." Cameron interjected, humming a few bars of a mournful gypsy air.

"Oh, do, Derrick." Alicia pleaded, standing up to pull Derrick to his feet. "Play 'Islamey', please, Derrick, please." She cajoled.

Massie saw Alicia give Derrick a long, lingering look of such naked sensuality that she looked away in embarrassment. Derrick returned her smoldering glance with a faint smile of understanding.

Giving in to his friends' demands, Derrick sat before the keyboard of the huge grand piano, Alicia seated at his side, her arm thrown over his shoulder.

"Remember 'Selim's Song', Derrick. Play 'Selim' first."

Despite the hours of drinking, Derrick's fingers glided surely over the keys, eliciting a compelling melody, redolent of tragic love and melancholy surrender. Everyone sang the poignant lyrics in voices raw with liquor and emotion.

Massie could no longer stand the sight of Alicia draped over Derrick. It was obvious they had been lovers; even their acerbic remarks indicated intimacy. They had past memories to share, common bonds of friendship and family, and Massie felt isolated and saw how tenuous and fragile her hold was on Derrick. Sure, she had a marriage certificate to rub on Alicia's face but that was all she had. She didn't know anything about Derrick's past or whatsoever and the activities they did wherein they both participated were strictly inside Derrick's bedroom.

And now they were laughing, the beautiful couple, two superb creatures, ideal foils for each other, exotic sunburned head against raven tresses.

She had a sudden savage longing to kill Alicia. Massie quietly slipped from the room as the five voices rose once again in swelling harmony on the last chorus. She had tried; she had really tried to be courteous and friendly, but Derrick asked her too much if he wanted her to stay and watch him playfully wooing Alicia. Massie began to cry, giving in to the misery she had been holding in check for hours.

As the chorus ended in a crashing cord, Derrick looked around for Massie. "Where's Massie?" he inquired offhand.

"She just left." Josh replied. "She's tired, I think."

"Damn it. I want her here." Derrick insisted arrogantly.

"Let her go." Alicia petulantly declared. "Really, Derrick, she looks barely out of the schoolroom."

With a drunken brutality, Derrick replied. "As you should well know, my dear lady, age is of little consequence when it comes to passion. How old were you, my sweet, when you first spread your legs?"

A flush illuminated Alicia's face.

"Derrick, that's enough." Josh interposed hurriedly. "Play us another song ― a gay one this time."

Derrick allowed himself to be persuaded, and soon everyone was raucously singing the rollicking chorus to "The Shepherd Lol". As the group broke into the second chorus, Josh quietly slipped out of the room.

He strode upstairs and down the long hall to Derrick's chamber. Knocking on the door, he called out softly, "It's Josh."

After a lengthy interval during which he was unsure his voice had been heard, the door opened and Massie's tear-strained face greeted him.

Gathering the woebegone woman in his arms, Josh kicked the door shut with his boot and gently guided her over to the settee in front of the fire where they both sat down. Passing a practiced arm around her drooping shoulder, he drew her to him.

"I'm sorry Massie. Derrick can be a brute when he's drinking." He had been Derrick's oldest friend, knew he was used to casually treating his women for so long that having a wife wouldn't change his libertine ways, and Josh felt a genuine concern for her wounded feelings. She had a poignant vulnerability noticeably lacking in the society hussies with whom he associated. If she would have accepted his affection as consolation, he would have offered it gladly, but her adoration of Derrick was too patently obvious for him to engage her feelings. He'd been visiting them since the wedding and he saw how much she loved her husband. He could be a friend to her, at least, but when she turned those deep amber eyes on him, he was a lost man.

"It's all right." Massie gulped convulsively as she tried to stifle the tears. "I'll just stay upstairs until everyone's gone."

"Is there anything I can do?" Josh asked compassionately.

"No, not really. I shouldn't carry on so anyway. I tell myself it's ridiculous to believe that being married would reform him, but…" her voice trailed off wearily.

"Do you want me to say something to Derrick? He can be damn disagreeable when he wished, but when he's sober, he can be quite obliging and kind." Josh allowed.

"Don't I know." Massie chuckled a bit. "So _very _obliging. Oh, Josh." She wailed as fresh tears fell. "God forgive me, I love him so much."

Holding her close, Josh rocked her softly, administering an awkward pat now and then to her tousled hair. He let her weep her fill, and when the sobs and flood of tears abated, he carefully wiped her face dry.

"Everything will be fine. Just see." He promised softly. "I know Derrick cares about you."

Massie's beautiful face lit up pitifully. "Do you really think so?"

"Of course." Josh reassured her with a certainty he was far from feeling.

"I hope you're right." Massie sighed happily, and in a few minutes Josh cajoled the tears away with one of his outrageous anecdotes.

Time passes swiftly as Josh engaged to dispel the unhappiness from Massie's eyes.

As they were both gaily laughing, Josh's arm comfortably on the back of the settee behind Massie, a sardonic voice broke into the cheerful mirth. "What a perfectly charming scene." Derrick rasped, his eyes full of wrath and astonishment. Then his voice chilled ominously. "Our usual custom of friendly sharing, Josh, doesn't include Duchess Harrington. I trust we understand each other on that score. I am sure that the mademoiselle knows of my feelings on her availability."

"Derrick, please." Massie pleaded. "Josh's just being nice."

"Pray do not insult my intelligence, mademoiselle. Allow me to know just how nice Josh can be to a beautiful woman. I have always admired Josh's utter lack of scruples when it comes to satisfying his physical urges. Am I too late and reduced tonight, my pet?" Derrick murmured silkily.

Massie blanched at the insult.

"You're a fool to treat Massie this way, Derrick." Josh exclaimed angrily. "You're blind drunk!"

With a chill politeness that required stern restraint on his boiling temper, Derrick said, "I'll thank you to mind your own business, Josh, and kindly take your lecherous hands off my wife. Now if you'll excuse us." Derrick informed with resentment. "I'd like some private conversation with the mademoiselle."

Ignoring Derrick's cold indignation, Josh spoke quietly to Massie. "If you need me," he said soberly, looking into his tremulous amber eyes, "just call."

"Very touching, I'm sure." Alex drawled, looking straight through him.

"Derrick, for God's sake! Sober up!" And then, disregarding Derrick's jaundiced retort, Josh reiterated as he left the room, "I mean it, Massie. Just call me."

"Well, mademoiselle," Derrick stood rocking a little on his heels, his eyes bright with drink. "is this how you entertain my guests? Well, one guest anyway." He sneered, slurring his words together. "Come back with me now." He ordered.

"You'll manage without me." Massie retorted.

"But I don't care to manage without you." He said icily. "Come back downstairs at once. You're insulting my guests."

"Insult a brazen hussy like Alicia? Impossible." Massie gave a short laugh. "I'm not coming back until that… that wench stops hanging all over you."

"Christ, is that your problem? We're just old friends. It's nothing." He brushed her remonstrances aside.

"It may be nothing to you, but it's humiliating for me. How do you think I feel watching my husband kissing another woman in front of everyone:

"I've been kissing her for years. I tell you it means nothing." He repeated.

The reminder of his and Alicia's long amorous relationship was like a blow to Massie's face. She flinched. "It means something to me." Massie whispered painfully.

"Mademoiselle, you would do well to remember that I live my life as I choose. Getting married and having a wife will never change my perspective. I answer to no one for my actions. Do you understand, mademoiselle, to no one." He snarled. Derrick's face was set and his eyes blazed furiously.

"Don't you care even a little how I feel?" Massie asked quietly. "Don't you care?" She had to have an answer, no matter how painful.

His ebony eyes met hers unblinkingly. "I don't know." He said bluntly. It had crept up on him, this general indifference to women. Love simply had never affected him. Women were a convenience, nothing more.

"To be blunt, I don't want a wife and children. They're an inconvenience." Derrick continued coldly. "But since I already have a wife," he glared at her, "I guess I just have to deal with it. Though, hear this, woman, I'm not adjusting my life to pave way for your satisfaction."

Massie was appalled and terrified by the indifference in Derrick's tone.

"What happened to you?" She wailed. "During the past two weeks, you've been nothing but kind and sweet and so loving. Now, you're...you're…you're…" She struggled for the word.

"An ass?" He sardonically supplied and ignored the scowl that she gave him. "This is who I really am, my sweet. The dotting husband you've been sleeping with is just a lie. A pretense, mademoiselle. So, don't expect seeing that side of me again in the future. In fact, don't bother seeing me often at all."

Massie stood up and slapped him across the face with all the strength and fury she had. "You are the most despicable and insensitive man I have ever felt. Go to hell."

Derrick flexed his jaw and gave her a chilling smile. "I'm glad you finally got it straight." And then with that, he turned around and left, shutting the door with a loud bang.

Massie simply stood there, unmoving, staring at the door while tears pooled down from the corners of her eyes.

**Sad, right? But that's just the beginning. I'm planning on the next chapter, Derrick and Massie will have a REALLY HUGE fight, marking D's sudden leave. So, brace yourselves, people. It's going to be a very bumpy ride after this.**

**Reviews are very much appreciated.**

**Oh, and, DRAMIONE, all right? Christ, I'm about to go nuts again. Hee-hee. :D  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Things have not been the same between Massie and Derrick after their fight. For the next month that followed, they rarely saw each other. Derrick was usually out with his friends in brothels or out with another woman. He avoided seeing Massie every time he went home which was seldom and when he did, he mostly spent his time in the library where he would sleep for a few hours before leaving again for God knows how long. He devoted himself into forgetting that he had a wife while his wife, in question, was doing the same thing… trying to forget that she loved a devil. She locked herself in the adjoining room to the bedroom she shared with her husband and cried herself to oblivion.

The routine continued day after day and the Redvers Townhouse staff grew even more and more concerned with their mistress's condition. She didn't eat. They delivered food to her but she all but refused them in the most civil tone they've ever heard. The maids that took turns cleaning her room reported to Trevor that the duchess was growing paler and paler and she constantly threw up. She was definitely sick.

"She looks terrible today than she did yesterday." Maria, Massie's lady's maid, told Trevor when she entered the kitchen where Trevor was leaning against the counter with Ramsey, the Cook, and Julia, his wife.

"Did she throw up again?" Julia asked worriedly. They have grown fond of their mistress who was so easy to like and the last thing they wanted was her to get sick.

"What will she throw up when she's not even eating? Think, woman." Ramsey said with a shake of his head.

The rest ignored him and waited for Maria's answer.

"No. I don't think she did." She replied uncertainly. "When I came in, she was sitting on the settee, facing the window, looking as prim and regal as the queen."

Trevor _tsk_ed and shook his head. "This is getting out of hand. The young Duchess needs to eat."

"Rather, she needs to function." Ramsey muttered under his breath. His comment, though, earned a slap on the head from his wife. "What? Julia, darling, admit it that our mistress is as dead as a corpse. She doesn't eat, she doesn't speak. She doesn't even take a bath! All she does is sit on that settee as still as a mannequin and sleep like the dead. If that's not dead, then what is, pray tell?" he challenged.

"I agree with Ramsey, Julia." Maria said. "Our mistress used to be so joyous. She used to be the life of the house but now, it saddens me to see her so… empty. Oh." She sniffed and covered her mouth, crying quietly for her beloved mistress.

Trevor went to comfort Maria. "Now, now, dear, the Duchess doesn't need us to be sad. She needs us to help her find her strength back."

Julia shook her head. "No, Trevor, what our Duchess needs is her husband. That ungrateful boy." She muttered as a mother would to her misbehaving child.

"I agree." Ramsey seconded. "She needs her husband, Trevor, and you're going to try to talk him into comforting his wife. The boy could be damn stubborn when he wants to so you best prepare yourself to convince him."

And Trevor felt as if he'd been given the task to move all people from London in one day.

Later that evening, the Duke of Redvers finally came home to get a change of clothes after spending most of his day with Alicia in her townhouse. Thank God, Boris wasn't in town because an hour of sex with the wild and passionate countess couldn't suffice both of their needs. In fact, he was more exhausted than she was when he left her, pouting.

As soon as he entered the grand foyer, Trevor was waiting for him. "Good evening, Your Grace. Would you like to have some dinner, sir?" he asked politely.

"I already ate." He replied grumpily.

"Your Grace, might you spare me a moment of your time?" he asked. "It's of great importance this dilemma I've to discuss with you."

His hand was on the staircase railing and he was on the third step when he stopped and turned to face his troubled butler. "Yes, yes. What's this dilemma you say you've got?" he impatiently prodded. "Hurry up because I've got another appointment to attend to." His friends were waiting for him at Yuri's mother's party.

"It's about the duchess, my lord."

Derrick narrowed his eyes. What had his troublesome wife had done now? "What about her?"

Trevor didn't flinch from his tone. "The Duchess had been refusing food for a few weeks now, sir, and she'd been looking terribly ill recently. Terribly pale, Your Grace. We're starting to worry that she might be carrying some illness."

The duke narrowed his eyes further. He admitted that he hadn't given her a thought for awhile now, busying himself with his liaisons and his affairs. He'd been selfish, all right, but the goddamn woman was just too stubborn and young to understand the ways of men like him. But that was the case, she _was_ young. How could she know that dalliance was customary in London, even for married men and women? He should have instructed her, not ignore her. Maybe if she knew better, they'd go along with each other well.

Derrick rubbed his brow before answering Trevor. "Don't worry about the duchess. I'll take care of it." He said before turning his back at his butler and continuing the steps toward the second floor.

"Thank you, Your Grace." Trevor replied.

Derrick turned to the hall where his bedroom was and checked if she were inside. Seeing that the room was empty, he turned to the adjoining room and found her sleeping on her side, facing him.

When he was about to sit on the side of the bed, his wife suddenly bolted upright, clutching the sheets around her chest. "Don't come near me." She warned in the most cruel voice she could muster.

How dare he come to her after avoiding her for a few weeks and act as if nothing was amiss? If he thought she would simply jump back into his arms, he was wrong.

"Aren't we a bit feisty tonight?" He teased, unbuttoning his shirt. "But then, you always liked being feisty, don't you, ma petit?" When he had his shirt unbuttoned halfway, he kneeled on the bed and reached for her. She scooted away from the bed and with the book she saw lying on the bedside table, she threw it at him.

He caught it deftly and dropped it to the floor. "What the hell is wrong with you, woman? I'm trying to be amiable and here you are throwing things at me! Such a wonderful way to welcome your husband." He yelled.

Massie snorted bitterly. "Amiable? Having your husband come home to you after three weeks of not appearing and, not to mention, perfumed with another woman's scent is what you call amiable? Or is just one woman? Knowing you it'd be a battalion of hussies like Alicia!" She yelled back with as much sarcasm as he did.

Derrick stood up and threw his arms in the air in frustration. "This is why I don't come home! Because every time I do, you'd drive me deaf and mad with your yells and your insecure arguments! Jesus, sometimes you make me wish I married a dog!"

Massie gasped in outraged and threw him a flower vase which he caught again. "A dog? You compared me to a _dog_! How dare you… you… you insolent prick!" She was now sputtering with anger. "You're stubborn, you're insensitive, exasperating, and a poor of excuse of being human! You don't deserve to live!" She started throwing him anything she could reach. "You should be hanged and drowned and beheaded! Get out! Get out! I never want to see your face again! Damn you!"

Derrick let out a dark chuckled. "Oh, you took the words right out of my mouth, my darling. And if you remember, this happens to be my house but then, I'm as desperate as you to leave this house, this city, and most especially, you, this is all belongs to you now." He stormed to the door. "And don't ever think I'll come back to you. Maybe when you're woman enough for me, I will but until then, enjoy your miserable life alone." He opened the door and slammed it shut before him.

Massie stood there, frozen, listening at his footsteps.

Derrick stormed down the stairs and found most of his staff hovering around the corner, listening to the argument he and his wife had. Ignoring their anxious gazes, he turned to Trevor and ordered in a brisk tone without stopping his pace. "Get Fredrickson to ready my ship. I'm going away for awhile. Take care of the house while I'm gone." He sighed. "I tried to get along with the stubborn woman but I can't handle it. She doesn't care to adapt my way of life. She wants to create a new one! Damn her!" He mumbled almost to himself.

Trevor was racing after him. "But, Your Grace, how about the Duchess?"

Derrick didn't glance back when he answered. "I don't give care of what she wants to do with her life. She can have the house and everything else but she can't own me." He snarled before he disappeared into his carriage.

As he collapsed onto the soft velvet seat, he fumed on how out of control tonight's situation was. He fully intended to make peace with his wife ― his damnable wife ― when she tested his patience to a full extent that he didn't mind his choice of words. He was even ready to spend some alone time with her away from the city and society when she just ruined everything.

Going away was the best way to clear his head and stop himself from strangling his wife to death. He'd go, circling the world (if possible) alone, until he was ready to face the scandalous world of the ton once again. Yes, that's right. He'll take a vacation away from the gossip because he figured after spending most of his life enjoying the amorous life, he deserved to have a break.

With that plan in mind, he drifted to sleep, waking only when his coachman shook him awake and told him they were at the docks already.

Massie spent the next three days, crying inside Derrick's closet.

After Derrick had left, she tried to run after him at the docks only to find out that his ship already left thirty minutes ago. She had Christopher, Derrick's lawyer, had him searched but no one knew of his whereabouts or where he was intending to go. After two days, Massie finally gave up, accepting the painful truth that Derrick would never come back to her.

It hurt so much.

Her father came to visit her a couple of times but she refused to see any visitors, she told Trevor. Her staff took pity on her. Such an innocent and lovely young lady brought to a world full of lies, deception and pain, they said. They also went out of their way to find out where the duke was but to no avail.

And the surprises were just starting to come.

On the fourth day of Derrick's absence, Trevor and Maria went inside Derrick's closet, bringing with them a tray of food. They found Massie in the bathroom, hunched over the sink, vomiting.

"Maria, get a towel! And some water!" Trevor instructed, running to his mistress. He held her hair back as she emptied her stomach. Or what was left of it. When she stopped throwing up, she leaned against the sink and was about to tell Trevor she was fine when she fainted. Trevor caught her just in the nick of time and carried her to the bed. He covered her with a quilt and touched her forehead with his hand.

"Bloody hell, you're burning up, my lady!" He exclaimed at the same time Maria entered with a pot of water and two towels.

"Oh, no!" Maria gasped and stood frozen, tears pouring down her face.

"Don't just stand there, child!" Trevor bellowed at her. "Come bring that pot and towels! Your lady needs you. Not your tears."

Maria obeyed and sat on the other side of the bed, brushing her hair out of her face. "Her fever's high. Should I call for Dr. Winters?" She asked Trevor who was busy wiping Massie's forehead with the wet towel.

"Better go and do that." He said. "And fast, if possible."

Maria nodded and with one worried glance at her mistress, she set off to find the doctor.

Two hours later, Maria came back with the gray-haired Dr. Antoine Winters. Massie had been awake for more than an hour already and when she saw the crowd that had gathered around the bed, she frowned and complained. "I'm all right, really. It's just the weather." She said, trying to sound reasonable, as Dr. Winter prodded her.

But no matter what she said, no one seemed to listen to her.

Dr. Winter heard from several of his colleagues that the Duke of Redvers left London in the middle of the night after having a big fight with his young wife. But from the moment he saw her so innocent and fragile, he took pity on her and cursed Derrick Harrington for injuring such a lovely young lady's feelings.

He took the seat beside the bed and looked at his patient. "Your lady's maid told me you've been throwing up for the past few weeks."

Massie nodded. "Yes, but ―"

The doctor interrupted her. "And you've been sleeping quite often lately, she said."

"Yes, only because ―"

The doctor held up his hand with a polite smile. "I apologize, Your Grace, but please listen first."

Massie closed her mouth and nodded.

"Thank you." The doctor said. "How long has it been since your wedding?"

Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes at the reminder of Derrick but she held them back. "Almost two months."

"And have you been missing your menses in the past few weeks?"

Everyone stood still at the question, looking expectantly at Massie.

She had been too engrossed and too depressed by Derrick's behavior since after their first fight that she hadn't kept track of her period.

When she spoke, her voice was hushed. "It was supposed to arrive two weeks ago."

More silence. She counted the times they've made love before that. Too many and they hadn't taken any precautions, at all. How on Earth would she know about precaution when she was shielded all her life from those kinds of things?

She looked up at Dr. Winters. "Am I…?"

Dr. Winters took her hand in his and nodded, a bit solemnly, knowing about her current situation. "I'm afraid so, dear."

She turned to Trevor and Maria who was thunderstruck by the news. "It can't be true, can it? Please tell this is all just a dream." She wailed.

Her servants lowered their heads, not wanting to stare at the terrified look on their mistress's face.

"It's true, my lady, and this is not a dream." Dr. Winters said softly, not being able to control the tears that poured down his face, seeing the young woman so desperately seeking for someone to hold on to.

"No!" She cried. "It can't be! It just can't! Derrick's not here! My-my husband's not here! Damn him! Damn his black soul! He did this to me and he's not even here! He doesn't even know that his damn child is growing inside me!" She ranted, all the while sobbing. "I wish I didn't marry him! I wish I'm not carrying his child! I wish I wasn't born in this god-awful, unfair world!"

She was such a pitiful sight and so young that Antoine Winters was reminded of his own daughter who was not even freshly out of training wheels. He stood from the chair and sat beside the duchess, embracing him in his arms.

Maria cried noisily with her mistress and moved closer to Trevor. Trevor, on the other hand, managed to keep his composure calm even when he wrapped an arm around Maria. But deep inside, his heart went out for the Duchess of Redvers and he was angry at his duke for abandoning her. She was such a sweet child, he thought as she cried against the doctor's jacket like an infant. He was going to do what was best for her which was to call Josh Hotz. Even if he was the duke's best friend, Trevor had seen that Josh held affection for the duchess and he also knew that, unlike Derrick, Josh could offer her comfort and probably the love she deserved.

Trevor only hoped that the Duchess of Redvers would listen to the Viscount of Bathurst.

It took Trevor half a day to locate the Viscount of Bathurst and after he told him that the Duchess needed him more than ever, Josh took off like a man being chased by the devil.

During the ride back to the Redvers Townhouse, Trevor filled the Viscount with what had happened in the past few days, about Derrick's leave and Massie's pregnancy. By the time he finished, Josh was fuming with anger.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch!" He bellowed as the carriage stopped in front of the townhouse.

"My lord, I think you ought to calm down first!" He called after Josh who was doubling his pace to get to Massie as fast as he could. "The Duchess had been through a tough ordeal already and what she needs is being coddled." He reminded him but the Viscount was already at the second floor when he finished.

Turning to where Trevor had told him Massie was, he took a few calming breaths before knocking on the door and letting himself in.

Massie was standing beside the window, looking out at the river below, wearing a simple white dress that accented her youth, taking his breath away. He wanted so much to find Derrick and punch the hell out of him for doing this but Trevor was right. Massie needed him and she needed him calm.

"You heard. Trevor told you." Massie stated without looking at him. She sounded so tired and weak that Josh's heart sank at the sound of it.

But he kept his temper at level. "Yes. He told me." He stood there, not knowing what next to do.

A few hours might have passed but finally Massie turned to look at him. "You don't need to be here, you know, Josh. I'll be taking too much of your time and I don't think I could live to have that in my conscience, bringing another innocent person into this chaos."

"He doesn't deserve you, you know." Josh spoke quietly but Massie heard him.

"It's not his fault. It's mine, actually. If only I didn't allow myself to be blinded by his…" Her voice broke, her shoulders trembling.

In less than three seconds, Josh had crossed the room and was holding her close to him, enveloping her in his arms, providing her the comfort she needed.

"I'm here, my sweet. I'm here." He murmured to her. "I'll be here with you."

"Oh, Josh, it hurts so much." She sniffed, her voice clouded with her blubs. "I loved him very much that it hurts. Why couldn't I have loved someone else? Someone who loves me, too? Why did it have to be him?" she babbled. "But he was so kind to me, and understanding, and loving, and perfect I couldn't resist falling." She suddenly wrenched from him and started to attack his chest with her fists. "Damn him! Damn him! Damn him! I wish he dies wherever he is! I wish he dies a slow and painful death so he could feel what I'm feeling right now! I want to cut his throat and feed it to the sharks and feed the rest of him to the lions! But I love him and as much as I want to kill him, I couldn't hurt him when he's hurting me so badly."

Josh let her pummel his chest as long as she wanted to, understanding that she needed some violent release of her pent up anger. But as much as he understood, he also wanted to shake her awake from that fantasy she was in wherein Derrick loved her. If only she'd wake up, she'd find him, waiting for her to finally realize he loved her.

When her punches were weakening, Josh pulled her back to his arms and simply held her, wishing that she could feel his love.

"From now on, I'm going to protect you." He whispered to her, stroking her back soothingly. "From now on, you don't have to be alone. I'm going to be here with you. You got that, Massie?"

He felt her faint nod and somehow, from that faint nod, he found a sense of hope that the day will come when she'll finally wake up from her dream and love him as much as he loved her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_It had been four months. _

Massie Block, the Duchess of Redvers, thought as she sat on a beige reclining chair by the window in her bedroom, the bedroom she used to share with her husband. Her husband who she loved so much yet hadn't seen for four long agonizing months. Yes, she had been able to keep up with the tabloids which occassionally contained articles about her estranged husbands profligate ways. She couldn't say she was surprised that the notorious Derrick Harrington would put his amorous affairs on hold because he was running away from his innocent and depressed wife. Huh. That was the last thing that came to Massie's mind.

Her husband was indeed an ass.

But despite the hurt loving him had caused her, she still couldn't get herself to forget him. He still filled her thoughts, clouded her dreams and invaded her life. She wakes up to the thought of him and sleeps at the vision of him smiling so lovingly at her. But these were all just fiction. A pigment of her depressed imagination. She knew that hoping for Derrick to come back was pointless but she still can't bring herself to forget.

She still loved him.

Damn his soul.

A soft knock on the door jarred Massie out from her thoughts.

She wiped the tears that had trailed down her cheek without her awareness and cleared her throat before answering, "Come in".

The door opened and Trevor came inside, carrying a silver tray filled with food with him.

"Good afternoon, Your Grace." He politely said. "Ramsey made your favorite cranberry cream pie."

Massie smiled a bit as Trevor put the tray down on the small table beside Massie. "Thank you, Trevor." She said, picking up a fork and tasting the delicious-looking dessert. She made a satisfied sound. "Hmmm. Kindly tell dear Ramsey that his cranberry cream pie is as stupendous as ever."

Trevor chuckled. "Well, I sure will convey your praise to him, milady. And I am sure that he will be boasting with pride as usual. You know as everyone else do that Ramsey prides himself with your happiness and satisfaction, Your Grace."

Massie, too, chuckled. "Well, do I know that now."

There was a small silence that filled the air. Massie could tell that Trevor had another agenda when he came to her room with a tray of food. And she could also tell what _that_ was about. But she waited for him to break the silence first.

Yet she was a bit grateful when Trevor cleared his throat and told her he would be back to get the tray when she was done. Massie stared at his back as he turned around and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Massie sighed and leaned back against the chair, closing her eyes as a tear escaped her eyelid.

She didn't like how her life turned out. She hated feeling so weak and vulnerable. She hated to pretend in front of other people that she was doing fine when inside, she was a humongous wreck.

She needed to go back to her old, cheerful self.

The Massie Block everyone knew. Not the Massie Harrington the _ton _now viewed as a lost cause whose husband left her.

She knew what she had to do but the question was how after everything that has happened to her already.

* * *

Once in the dim light of dawn Derrick stretched luxuriously murmured "darling" to no one in particular, and slept on.

The sun was high in the brilliant sky of a balmy afternoon when Derrick lazily rolled over and flung one arm around the soft body next to him. His hand swept slowly to caress the woman's skin. An uneasy presentiment nudged at his tired, dulled perception. The sensation beneath his fingers was puzzingly incorrect. No delicate, lean, taut body here He dubiously levered open one eye, and the undefined confusion in his dazed brain was irrefutably clarified.

He couldn't even remember what her name was. All he knew was that he was in an expensive and exclusive-to-royalty-only brothel in Chicago, America. It had been four months since he left England to travel around the world on a business trip, an opportunity leave his dotting wife. _That little bitch_, he thought with a sneer.

Memories of their last stand-off came flooding to him again. How she looked so damned pitiful when she begged him not to leave and then another image entered his mind. A picture of sweet innocent Massie Block smiling at him from across the room. He was on the bed, naked and not the least bit ashamed by it, while she was just coming out of the bathroom, washing off the remnants of their whole passion-filled night.

He remembered her looking at him with those big beautiful amber eyes, the love and adoration evident and stark for everyone to see and know how deeply her affection was for him.

Slowly, she made her way towards him...

Derrick shook his head vehemently as if that would shake off thoughts of his young wife. He sat upright almost too abruptly and turned to wake his companion who was still deep in her slumber.

He shook her awake and when she turned her head sleepily away from him, he threw the covers off her, revealing her naked body.

_Screw etiquette, _he thought as he moved to wake her up in a more effective way.

* * *

_A week after..._

"Hello, beautiful."

A familiar voice forced Massie to open her eyes.

She was resting at the balcony of her country house in Yorkshire one Saturday afternoon. She had arrived two days ago after she realized that it had been a long time since she visited her family's country house and since she didn't have anything to do for the rest of the week, she figured that it was only fitting if she would pay her family a visit.

Indeed when she had arrived, her father was extremely glad to see her. He had sent the servants to prepare them a feast so large and grand that Massie thought could feed the entire London society. She and her father engaged in happy conversations over meals and during the day when he didn't have to go to their vineyard. But even when he was gone, he made sure that his daughter was well-entertained. In other words, he wanted her daughter distracted from the awfulness of her marriage. Or simply, to get her mind off the insenistive prat he made her marry.

Her father was currently at the vineyard because there was some emergency that was needed to be taken care of immediately. After making sure she would be fine all by herself, he left a little past noon and wouldn't be back till late evening.

Massie was just lounging on the balcony, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth her country house gave her, when she heard someone approach and greet her. She opened her eyes and turned to see Josh Hotz, the Viscount of Bathurst, leaning against the doorframe with his muscular arms crossed over his chest, looking like a Greek god. His blonde hair fell just above his shoulders in a manly and sensual way. His eyes had its usual malicious glint and his lips was curved into a slight playful smirk.

As soon as Massie saw him, her lips broke into a wide grin and the joy of seeing him was evident in her eyes. It was enough to make every guy in London to sell all their belongings and go to heaven.

"Josh!" She stood up from the chair immediately and went to give her friend a hug.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Josh chuckled as he hugged her back, lingering a bit to smell her hair. _Strawberries_, he thought. _Amazing just like her_. "Missed me so much?" He playfully said.

Massie, too, chuckled, smacking him playfully on the shoulder. "Don't get your hopes up, Bathurst. You're not _that_ cute." She teased.

He stuck his bottom lip out in a puppy-dog pout.

Massie smacked him again. "Still not." And she stuck her tongue out at him.

Josh, seeing her so lively and happy, threw head back and laughed. "Very mature of you, milady." He told her as they moved to lean against the balcony railings.

After a moment of silence, of simply admiring the wonderful view before them, Josh turned to her. "So, how have you been, Mass?" He asked nonchalantly. "I see the little guy's growing too big now." He observed, eyeing Massie's large belly.

Massie's hand instinctively went to stroke her stomach. "We've been wonderful actually." She said. "How about you?" She asked him, desperate to change the topic.

But Josh wasn't easily fooled. He could see the dark shadows under her eyes due to lack of sleep and he also observed that she lost a lot of weight ever since he left for Nice two months ago. She was close to being bony now. And he thought she looked a bit paler than the last time he saw her.

He couldn't imagine how she could still hold herself what with loosing so much weight and the huge thing she was carrying.

_Damn Redvers, _he thought.

He knew better than to press, though. So, he obliged and told her about his trip to Nice, leaving out the parts wherein he spent most of his free times in various kinds of brothels in the area, all the while imagining it was Massie. He couldn't understand how she could still love Derrick after all that he has done to her. He knew that she knew that she was being stupid and unreasonable, crying over someone who was as good as dead considering the fact that he didn't give a damn for the wife he had left back at his hometown. Not only was her hoping for him to come back was pointless, it was also not worth it.

But he also knew that no matter how much he would scold her or rub the truth at her face that her husband was a git, Massie wouldn't listen. She was stubborn, hard-headed and determined, especially when she had set her mind on something. Several of her qualities that drew him to her. Closer and closer and closer every single day.

"I want to ride." Massie suddenly said, breaking through Josh's chattering.

Josh's head snapped to her.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You hate riding." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. "Plus, how in hell could you ride a horse with _that_?" He added, pointing at her stomach.

Massie stuck her tongue out at him. "I do not." She countered. "In fact, I happen to be an excellent rider, sir. And, for your information, my baby and I can manage."

Josh laughed out loud. If he were drinking something, he would've choked.

Her slap on his arm didn't seize his laughter, though.

"Laugh on, Bathurst, you'll regret it later after I beat you." Massie huffed as she stood from the chair and marched towards the stables with Josh running after her.

He had managed to contain his laughter for later and just kept a serious expression. Or, rather, a mocking expression. "Beat?" He echoed.

Without stopping her stride, she answered with a hard voice, "Yes. Beat."

Josh suppressed another round of raucous laughter. "So, you mean, a race?" When she didn't answer, he continued, "_You're_ going to race with _me_?" He sounded almost incredulous as if such a thing has been unheard of.

Massie suddenly stopped and whirled around to face him. Josh, who was unaware and taken aback by her sudden turn, bumped into her and they almost fell to the floor if his instinct didn't tell him to wrap his arm protectively around her and pull her against him.

Josh almost stopped breathing. She was so close and she was looking at him with those beautiful eyes that were now narrowing into slits. The only thought that entered his mind was she looked so damned pretty when she's mad.

He would've kissed her if she wasn't yelling at him so loud that he was positive the neighbors - even though they didn't have one, since the Block countryhouse was isolated and there were no other houses or buildings for more or less 2 kilometers from them - would hear.

"OH? IS IT SO UNBELIEVABLE THAT A WOMAN WOULD CHALLENGE YOU INTO A RACE? HUH? AND IS IT MORE UNBELIEVABLE THAT THAT WOMAN WOULD WIN? THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG IN THIS WORLD! WE, WOMEN, ARE EXPECTED TO KNIT BY THE HEARTH AND WAIT FOR OUR DEAR HUSBANDS TO COME HOME FROM "WORK" WHILE YOU, MEN, ARE ALLOWED TO DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOUR HORMONES WANT! WOMEN ARE EXPECTED TO BE DOTTING WIVES TO THEIR SNEAKING HUSBANDS! WE'RE NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO LIFT A FINGER, MUCH LESS REARRANGE THE FURNITURE WHILE YOU GO AROUND LONDON LIFTING ALL PARTS OF A WOMAN'S ANATOMY! DO YOU THINK IT'S FAIR? NO, THE WORLD IS DEFINITELY UNFAIR! UNFAIR THAT WE, WOMEN, SHOULD LOOKED DOWN WHILE MEN SHOULD BE LOOKED UPON! UNFAIR!"

By the time Massie had finished her speech, her chest was heaving madly and she was desperately catching her breath. Josh, on the other hand, had already released her in the middle of her speech and was now looking at her with an amused expression.

"Are you done?" He asked softly. Even if Massie wasn't looking at him since she was too embarrassed to do so, she could still hear the smile in his voice.

Turning around and without meeting his eyes, she answered in a dignified tone, "Yes. Thank you for listening."

And with that, she continued to march towards the stables with her cheeks flaming red and Josh, who was suppressing his laughter so much that it almost hurt, in tow.

* * *

They were already in the forest which was located behind Massie's country house. They had been riding for almost half an hour and the silence between them was awkward.

Massie kept looking straight ahead, too embarrassed by her irrational outburst while Josh rode a few feet away from her, finding her embarrassment funny.

He cleared his throat after a few moments of silence. He literally can't help the teasing her. "I thought you said you wanted to race."

He heard her scoff. "I thought you said you were too much of a coward to race."

"Well, if you don't want to..." He left the sentence hanging.

"Shut up, Bathurst." And with that, she took off like lightning. "Come and get me!" He heard her yell over the thunderous galloping of her horse.

Josh laughed out loud and took off to race her. In a few seconds, he was already behind Massie. Massie heard him approach and kicked off faster. But Josh had much longer experience riding a horse and joining races that he managed to outrun Massie and was already galloping far past her. He kept laughing all the while, enjoying the feeling of the air hitting his skin and loving the moment he was spending with Massie.

He kept on riding and riding with all his might that he didn't notice that there were no sounds coming from Massie's horse who he thought was following him or pursuing him. It was when he passed a creek that he was able to turn around and notice that no one was in sight or no signs of her following him. He pulled the reins of his horse to a stop and listened for another horse's gallop.

He waited.

1...2...3...4... Nothing.

He waited ten seconds more.

Still, there were no sounds aside from the sound of water flowing at the creek and the chirping of the birds.

"Where is she?" He whispered to himself. He leaned forward to the horse's ear and spoke. "Do you think something's wrong, boy?" He asked as if the horse could understand him.

And then he heard it.

The sound of another horse galloping towards them.

He was smiling smugly and was about to boast to Massie that her empty threat of beating him was just that - empty - when Snow, Massie's beautiful white horse, came running uncontrollably towards him.

Without Massie on her.

Panicking, Josh got down from his horse and ran to Snow, catching the reins to pull her to a stop. Then, he went to calm the horse down. "Shh, Snow, shh. Calm down, girl." The horse indeed calmed down. "Now, that's a good girl. Where's Massie, dear, huh?"

The horse neighed and whirled around, attempting to run back to where Massie was.

Josh hoisted himself up Snow and snapped his fingers at his horse, Heat. "Heat! Tsk tsk! Let's go!" He commanded and the horse, as if he understood, followed after Josh and Snow who was already speeding up to where Massie was.

She was on the ground, lying on her side, her face half-turned. She was unconscious.

Josh swung his legs and got down, racing to get to Massie. "Massie! Massie!" He kneeled beside her and turned her so that she was facing him. Thank God, there were no injuries aside from a few dirt scratches which she must have accumulated when she fell. He hugged her to him and shook her a bit. "Massie, darling, wake up. It's me, Josh." He softly said.

Massie's eyes fluttered slightly until they were half open. "Who won?" She asked subconsciously.

Josh chuckled and hugged her again to his chest. "You, darling. You won." And kissed her temple.

"See, I told you so." She said with a weak punch on his arm.

Josh laughed again. "I know, I know. Now, let's get you back to the mansion." He stood up and carried her with him to Snow. Heat was lingering behind the white horse.

He was about to hoist Massie up the horse when he spotted a red line on her thigh. With his other hand, he pulled her skirt up a bit, revealing blood gushing down both her thighs.

"Jesus." He muttered as he felt his sweat on his forehead.

Massie who was resting her head against his shoulder looked at him curiously. "What's wrong?" When he didn't answer, she followed his eyes and saw the blood.

"Oh, my God." She whispered. "Josh! The baby!" She screamed suddenly, struggling against Josh while tears flowed down the corners of her eyes. "The baby, Josh! I fell and hit my stomach hard on the ground... Oh, God!" And then she swooned.

"Jesus." Josh cursed again before hoisting Massie up the horse and then himself. He arranged her so that she was cradled against his chest and commanding his horse to follow him, he shot off back to the mansion.

* * *

Hours later, as Massie was just waking up on her bed, she felt someone move to her side and hold her hand. She opened her eyes and found her father sitting beside her.

She looked around and found that it was already dark. And then she remembered what happened that afternoon.

"Where's Josh?" She asked, turning to Hazard.

"He's outside, honey." He answered, his eyes looking sad.

And then, dread filled up Massie's feelings. "The baby..."

Hazard couldn't look into her eyes but he forced himself to. "You fell off your horse this afternoon, dear. The impact of your hit was too hard. And you also lost an ample amount of blood. Josh was there - thank God - so he -"

She cut him off. "I don't want to hear about that! I want to know what happened to my child!" She yelled at him, forgetting herself.

A tear escaped Hazard's eye. Slowly, he said, "He's gone, dear."

Massie stared at him as if he was speaking gibberish. "Gone? What do you mean "gone"? He can't be gone!" She sat up straight and attempted to stand up.

Hazard grabbed her hands and pulled her into a tight embrace. Massie struggled against him, thrashing like a madwoman. She pummeled her fist against her father's chest, all the while shouting her disagreements, expressing her disbelief. "Is this some sort of sick joke, papa? Oh, you're hiding him, aren't you? Show him to me now, papa! I know he's here!" She started crying again. "How can he not be here? He's just a baby! He's here, papa! I know he's alive! I know my baby is alive!"

Hazard only held her and rocked her back and forth, rubbing her back. "Shh, shh, sweetheart. Everything will be fine." He sounded like he was convincing himself.

Massie only cried harder and harder, remembering and feeling all the misfortunes she had experienced for the past months, including the death of her mother at the beginning of the year. "He can't be gone. He can't be gone." She whispered, half-mad, as more tears flowed down her cheeks, drenching her clothes and her father's.

_He can't be gone._

* * *

Outside her bedroom, the Viscount of Bathurst was leaning against the door, listening to Massie's agonized, half-mad cries. He leaned his head back against the door, closing his eyes, deep in pain for her.

**Don't kill me!**

**I know I owe everyone a huge apology for not updating for 5 bloody months but before you attack me with torches now, let me just explain to you that I've been under a lot of pressure for the past months. See, aside from school, I had other distractions that turned into problems. I met this person who made me believe the he's the one and that he loved me for all he's worth. Since I found him rather attractive and charming, I agreed to go out with him. Sooner enough, he became my boyfriend. Then the next three months were filled with blissful romance. But then right before our fourth-month anniversary, he told me that he was starting to lose interest in our relationship and it was better if we'd break it off before we make something that would make the situation worse. Damn him. He told me he loved me and made me fall for him so deep and then, THIS! Asshole. See, how similar my story is with Massie? Only problem is I don't have a Josh. DAAAAAAMN. :|**

**So, now, I'm ready for the torches. **

**Oh, but before that, don't forget to review. :)))**

**I love you, guys. Writing and your reviews are the only things that keep me going now. HAHA. Be honored! (kidding) :D**

**But, seriously, guys, the reviews. Need 'em.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

She stood, tall and proud, amidst the delirious flock of titled men and suitors while glowered at by women filled with envy, wishing they were her. Having acquired a headache from spending two hours with a hard-to-please Bulgarian prince, Massie Block simply smiled politely at the men while ignoring the glares from the women.

No one would dare wonder why the Duchess of Redvers was easily admired and envied by the people. At the mere age of 21, she was the wealthiest and most successful business heiress/tycoon in the continent of England. Owning more than several establishments in the continent, not to mention, the biggest and most prominent shipping company, she was indeed richer than the Prince Regent who she personally knew, mind that.

But she was mostly honored and recognized by her exceptional beauty – the kind that was only seen in paintings painted by famous painters as a face of an angel. Soft, long auburn hair that flowed down her waist with light curls framing her heart-shape face, silky porcelain skin, long and flawless legs which extended kilometers away, and beautiful, tantalizing eyes that never failed to lure men to her lair – Massie was given the title as the devil's temptress, a subtle seductress. An advantage she, rumor has it, used on her business associations. A point which everyone took as one of the explanations of her sudden and immediate success in the field of business.

Yet she wasn't the one to socialize. That was the mystery of the famous duchess. Everyone knew that her husband – the notorious Derrick Harrington – left her because she wasn't "woman enough for him". This was also one of their assumptions on her drastic change. Who would have ever thought that quiet, shy and innocent little Block chit who was barely even considered as a woman despite being married to the most handsome and richest duke in England was now the successful and exquisite duchess whom every man in the continent wanted to bed and every woman wanted to rip her face and plaster it on their own? No one did.

She took London and England by storm. Every man, titled or not, asked for her hand in marriage, asking her if she wanted to remarry, at first glance. Every single day for the past three years, she received love letters from persistent suitors declaring their undying love for her. Even the young Prince of Wales himself offered to divorce his beautiful wife to marry her.

But Massie patiently turned all ludicrous proposals down, despite who the man was or how rich he was, with a polite smile and a formal hand shake as if it was a mere business proposal. When asked if she would enter the world of dalliance or be someone's mistress, she ceremonially said she would not on any circumstances enter such activities which would only deter the progress of her businesses.

Everyone wondered why a woman with such beauty and money like her refuses all men, mostly those with exceptional qualities and looks. But most of the gossipers speculated that maybe she still hadn't moved on from her estranged one-of-a-kind husband. After all, everyone knew how very much in love she was with the glorious duke.

She remained a mystery to all – one that they were anticipating to decode.

Presently standing beside the refreshment table at the Clairvoux ballroom pretending to be interested at the dancers on the dance area, Massie turned to her suitors and cleared her throat. "Will you please excuse me for a while, gentlemen? I just need some air."

Her suitors hurriedly offered themselves to accompany her.

She politely declined each. "No, no. I'm perfectly capable of walking alone and I don't want to be a burden to anyone. So, please just enjoy yourselves. Excuse me." She gave them a little curtsy before walking out the door to the garden.

Count Clairvoux prided himself with the vastness and magnificence of his garden. He, rather than his wife who preferred riding at their countryhouse, personally researched and planted every flower and plant in their garden. Spectacular and expensive statues were scattered everywhere while a huge beautiful fountain glowed at the middle of the patch. It all spoke about a romantic Greek scenery.

Massie went to a stone bench near the fountain beside a bush of red roses and sat on it primly – her back straight, her chin held up high, her hands folded on her lap, lips pursed, eyes slightly distant.

She was the perfect picture of a beauty in distress.

Meanwhile, the party went on inside the ballroom. The dance area was filled with couples, waltzing to the wonderful music played by the orchestra, men and women socializing by the sides while others chose to find solitude with another. Fathers were scaring off their daughters' lecherous suitors while most of the mothers match-made them with a high-ranking official or a man of title and wealth.

It was another typical night by the _ton._

That was until the bell rang, signaling for the arrival of another guest.

"The 12th Duke of Redvers."

The entire ballroom was filled with gasps and murmurs of disbelief and shock. Everyone abandoned what they were doing, including the dancers and musicians, and turned to stare at the beautiful man standing at the entrance of the ballroom.

The first thought that entered in every woman's mind ran along the lines _Sweet baby Jesus, he looks even more handsome and muscular than before_ while for the men _Damn, there goes my amorous nights, women would be wanting him and only him, again_.

Derrick stared down at the gaping crowd and smirked. He slowly descended the stairs, putting on heart-melting smile. He's vain so he was aware that it melted hearts.

He stopped at the foot of the staircase to wait for everyone to get over the initial shock. Or pleasure, he thought as an aftertqhought.

"I couldn't have anticipated a more perfect welcome-back party." He teased. Since the place was silent, everyone heard him.

The people snapped out of their stupor and went back to the party. Most, though, approached him, welcoming back and asking the inevitable questions which he neatly and skillfully dodged, of course. The other guests kept an eye on him as they resumed their previous activities.

"Derrick, darling, I've missed you so much. I haven't had a good lover since you left. All the men here are so tiring and boring." The woman clinging on his shoulder, Olivia Ryan, one of his former lovers, pouted. "Unlike you, of course, darling. You've never been a bore to me." She whispered huskily into his ear.

_Great. Not a minute after he comes back from a three-year disappearance, all the women book an appointment to share his bed or theirs, _the Marquis of Acquinas thought as he watched the scenario a few feet away with his sulking friends.

Derrick laughed. It sounded rich and sensual. The women were pulled by it. "You really were quite a tigress, Olivia. One of the many – ″ he winked at the ladies surrounding him "- reasons why I decided to come back."

And so there went all the glorious nights of the bachelors and married men who were joining the game of dalliance. The women immediately competed for Derrick's attention, hoping he'd chose them for the night.

The night went on with lusty laughs, exciting flirtations, sultry gazes and suggestions between the women and Derrick while the men growled and glowered at him, though they made it sure to stay as that. They still haven't forgotten the infamous Harrington temper. Bating Derrick was like bating a lion in the wilderness. Dangerous and deadly.

Massie, on the other hand, hadn't realized she had dozed off for a while. She woke up a few minutes after, looking around, seeing that she was alone in the garden. She stood, fixed her gown, and walked leisurely towards the exhibit hall.

When she entered the ballroom, she hadn't noticed the mob that had gathered near refreshment table. Nor did she realize who the person was surrounded by the women. She quietly and secretly slipped into the double doors leading to the exhibit hall and sighed when no one seemed to have seen her.

All she wanted that night was peace and tranquility, something that was rarely in her life.

What she didn't know was that she was in for the biggest surprise of her life.

He literally bumped into her.

Derrick caught sight of the Honorable Chelsea Palmer and her aunt Lady Tallien who had been persistently pestering him of remarrying before they even saw him and he quickly slipped into the nearest room which was the exhibit hall. There were only several guests in the hall so he moved past them, concerned only with not being seen by the two ladies. Quickly glancing over his shoulder, he detected no telltale bobbing pink bonnet feathers in the mass of humanity behind him and, gratified, he determined to make his unavailability crystal clear next time he met the Palmer ladies.

He won't make the same mistake twice. He had returned to London after spending three years on the shore, constantly docking for search of a woman to warm his bed for the night. It was damn tired, not having any sense of stability. Well, stability in land, of course. Not in women. He had also gone into tons of quarrels among the family or the friends of the women he had taken. Apparently, people from outside didn't understand the essence of dalliance, unlike the people in London who understood it perfectly well, line by line. Also, he couldn't deny the fact that he missed his family. Excluding his "docile" wife who he had no purpose of meeting ever again.

Swiveling around a second too late, he crashed into a lady reading a brochure. She began to pitch backward, her astonished cry swallowed up in the din of the crowd. Reacting instinctively, he caught her arms, pulling her hard against him to keep them both from falling. Her eyes flared wide at the impress of his muscled chest against her breasts, his powerful thighs braced against hers. Stunned, she looked up into familiar dark eyes suddenly regarding her with interest.

It was her husband!

At the realization, her eyes widened, bulging out in shock.

Derrick, on the other hand, seemed not to recognize her, to her gratification. He continued to look her up and down, lust evident in his darkened eyes.

She was exquisite – auburn-haired, dazzling, graphically voluptuous – , his senses instantly came alert. "Pardon me." he murmured in a deep, low fascinated tone.

Good God! He hadn't really recognized her, Massie thought.

She chose not to tell him. "You're pardoned." A modicum of reserve underlay her words.

But he didn't let her go. Her lavish breasts, shapely thighs, and widened beauty were too intriguing. And when she spoke, there was something in her that was familiar to him though he couldn't put a finger on it.

"Excuse me but have we met before?" He asked with a charming smile.

_Oh, God, should I tell him? _Massie thought. _No! He should know who I am if I did matter to him_.

_Unfortunately, honey, you don't considering the fact that he doesn't recognize you_, the other part of her brain argued.

Tears started to well up but she refused to let them fall. She turned around to pick up her brochure. She had perfected the art of masking her emotions years before. "I don't think so, my lord."

"Derrick Harrington." He held his hand out. "Duke of Redvers. But please call me Derrick."

She nodded and instinctively, she shook his hand.

The moment their skin touched, she realized her mistake.

They both flinched as if an electric cord electrified them. It was an intense tingling sensation that coursed through their veins, making blood passage almost impossible. Without thinking, she looked up and met Derrick's searching gaze. She found that he was frowning.

Massie immediately withdrew her hand and composed herself. She needed to slow down her heart beat. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Your Grace. Have a pleasant night." Without meeting his questioning eyes, she slipped around him and walked swiftly and briskly yet maintained the regality in her stride, disappearing around a corner.

She could hear Derrick catching up with her. "Hey! I forgot to ask your name!" She increased her pace and was literally running out as if the devil hot on her tail which was in fact a bit true. She entered the ballroom, dodged all her suitors who had been wondering where she had gone and ran up the staircase (thank goodness the party was still in full swing and the conversations were loud enough and interesting enough for her escape not to catch attention) and into the cold night air. She called for the footman to get her carriage and coat.

She just hoped Derrick wasn't still running after her because she knew if she would see him again, she won't have the strength to hide her tears that were already threatening to fall.

God, the night had been awful.

When her carriage stopped in front of her, she didn't wait for the footman to help her inside but stepped in and told her coachman to head home. When they had already pulled away from the Clairvoux mansion, she allowed herself to slump against the cushion and bury her face in her hands. She let the tears fall and she cried silently which she hadn't done for quite a while now.

She had made it her mission not to involve her emotions in everything she do after experiencing and learning the painful lesson that emotions can ruin people's lives. She had vowed never to let anyone see her vulnerability and see her as a duchess who was beautiful and successful than most men rather than the naïve chit the Duke of Redvers left. She had struggled at first to make people believe that she was no longer that girl who cried at all times. She wanted people to respect her. That was the reason why she had spent the past three years, educating herself, and using her money and inheritance (not the money she got from the marriage with Derrick) to purchase businesses and convert them into big-time establishments. She learned the ways and tricks of dealing with competition and clients. She fought dirty when needed yet maintained her dignity and posture. She was a fair match to cruel businessmen, her methods teaching them a lesson never to mess with a tigress even if you were a tiger.

She had spent three years, working her buttocks off, studying her brains out, to prove to everyone that she could be as good as any man. Although unaware of it, she stood up for all the women who were fighting for equality with the men. Somehow, she had unintentionally become the norm of all women – a beauty who drew men but with a brain that brought them to their knees. Her brisk, formal, business-like disposition made the challenge even more exciting and made the male race want her more. But Massie knew that they only saw her as an asset to fame and fortune, a trophy in more ways than one.

She had had enough of the society's view of women as mere accessories.

"_Men may have the muscles but women have the brains to figure out their use" _then became her prophecy, a self-made prophecy.

And now, she was angry at herself. She was angry at herself for letting Derrick turn her into a wreck again just from a brief encounter wherein he didn't even recognize her, for God's sake, after three years of his unannounced absence from her life, a proof of how much she meant to him. Sure, she might have changed over the past years but she couldn't be _that _different that he couldn't recognize her, even just for her eyes or the color of her hair or the sound of her voice, right?

"He simply didn't care." She whispered to herself, letting the tears continue to fall down her cheeks and stain her impeccable gown.

This would be the last she'll cry for Derrick Harrington, she vowed with fierce conviction.

Later that night as Derrick was lounging in Hattie's brothel wherein Hattie and the girls threw him a "special" welcoming party, Derrick sat on a fuchsia chaise in a dimly lit room all by himself as he had told the women he was given that he wasn't in the mood tonight and preferred to be alone.

Well, the excuse was half-true, half-lie. Yes, he wasn't in the mood and preferred to be alone since he tired himself with the catching-up conversations and talking with his friends who had absolutely missed him over at Clairvoux's party. Yet the excuse was also a half-lie since he wasn't in the mood because he couldn't get the mysterious woman from his mind ever since she literally ran from him. He preferred to be alone but with her which highly impossible since he didn't even have the slightest inkling on who she was.

After he had finished searching the ballroom for her, he asked the other guests if they knew who the woman was. They didn't have any idea who he was talking about since they were as well busy with their own affairs and didn't notice her leaving the party. He was asked, of course, if he had already seen his wife since she was there. He said he didn't and didn't have any intention on meeting her. But he said it politely.

Damn, that mystery woman was eating up his thoughts! He couldn't even get a good shag because he was so preoccupied with the thoughts of her and the questions her sudden escape posted in his mind.

No woman in his life had ever escaped from him like they was she did. It was like the first time she saw him, she viewed him as a monster, something she needed to be scared of. He, after all his experience with women, mastered the techniques of arousal and the signs when a woman wants him. He knew she wanted him but he read her body language. She was protecting herself from him, as well.

"Nothing makes sense, damn it!" He growled out loud. Here he was, lusting after a woman he didn't even know who was obviously scared of him. Sure, she must have heard about his… sexual exploits… but surely, she wouldn't run away from him like he was a fucking vampire.

There was something in her he just couldn't let go.

He needed to know who she was or else, he'll literally go mad with arguing with himself.

"She'll be mine." It was not a statement, not a question, not an exclamation.

Rather, it was a mission.

**That was all I could come up with right now. I had to update because I didn't want to disappoint you, guys, so I hope you liked it. I know this chapter lacked on the dialogue department but it fitted the event which is Derrick's comeback as a transition/narration type of writing. **

**In just a few hours, it'll be New Year's Eve already here in the Philippines. My wish for 2011 is for me to have more free time from school to update my stories. Not updating is killing me. Seriously.**

**To all my lovely and gracious readers who had been loyal to me since Here We Go Again and the successful outcome of Sweet Revenge (one of my favorite fics if I may say so), thank you thank you thank you** **thank you! I am **_**beyond **_**thankful. I hope you, guys, will continue reading and giving feedbacks on my works and future works. I love you all! :***

**Happy New Year in advance!**

**From: Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy ( HAHAHA )**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The news of the Duke of Redvers's return to London spread throughout the city faster than an epidemic.

It started as a discussion among the members of the _ton_ which, of course, was overheard by their servants who told the other servants of other families who told their masters and mistresses who told the rest of their friends. By the end of the morning, even their dogs and horses knew about it.

A group of women dressed in bright walking gowns and matching parasols were walking past the ancestral townhouse of the Redvers wherein the duchess was living in.

"Ladies, did you hear that the Duke of Redvers had returned to London just last night?" Dylan Marvil, a short red-haired woman with freckles on the bridge of her nose, wondered out loud as she glanced at the biggest townhouse in London.

The two women she was with skidded to a abrupt halt and gasped dramatically.

"What?" The tall, blonde one, Kristen Gregory, exclaimed.

The other woman, Layne Abeley – medium height, dark black hair and bushy eyebrows – shook her head as if she couldn't believe it. "Did I hear you correctly?"

Dylan rolled her eyes. "No, you didn't. I was just joking – of course you heard me correctly! You don't have hearing defects, right?" She asked sarcastically.

Layne lowered her head, taking insult in what she said. "Sorry."

Kristen ignored her and turned to Dylan for more juicy details. "So, he's really back? The Duke of Redvers is really back?" Excitement colored her eyes and echoed in her tone.

Dylan nodded. "Yes. He's staying at his other townhouse across town."

Kristen narrowed her eyes, glancing at the townhouse in front of them. "I wonder if he'll come back to his wife."

"It doesn't appear like it. He attended the Clairvoux ball last night and before he arrived, everyone saw the Duchess still there being flocked around by suitors –″

"As usual." Kristen interjected, a hint of jealousy in her tone.

"- yet when the duke arrived, she was gone already. Her suitors said she was just getting some air at the garden yet when the Marquis of Acquinas checked, she wasn't there, too. This happened when the duke also mysteriously disappeared for a few minutes. Then he was back a while after, running after some woman he met in the exhibit hall. He spent the rest of the night looking for her."

Layne decided to join in the conversation again. "Who do you think it was?"

Dylan shrugged. "I don't know. No one saw her run out of the exhibit room as what the duke had said." And then she looked at her friends. "I personally think it was the duchess."

Kristen laughed. "You are such a jester, Dylan. If the mysterious woman indeed were the duchess, surely the duke would have recognized her."

Dylan glared at her which made her seize her laughter. "Are you blind, Kristen? Have you seen how the duchess looks like? No one would dream she was the shy little innocent the duke once married four years ago."

Layne was nodding. "You've got a point, Dylan."

Dylan grinned smugly, throwing Kristen a meaningful gaze, and started walking forward once again. "I'm not sure about it, though, ladies. It's just a speculation but I do know something."

Layne and Kristen tagged behind her, egging her to go on. "What is?"

She broadened her smile, stuck her chest and butt out, and continued on the sidewalk in a cat-like gait. "Life in London will surely be more entertaining and busy for us."

Layne and Kristen _ahh_d and giggled.

A few minutes after the three women disappeared around the corner, an elegant black carriage skidded to a halt in front of the big townhouse.

Derrick stepped out of the coach and walking up the steps of his previous home. He couldn't help but admit that he missed walking up these steps. He rang the doorbell once and waited, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his black breeches.

The door opened and a slightly silver-haired Trevor came to greet him.

"Good morning. How may I – Good lord! It's you, Your Grace!" Trevor exclaimed, his hand going to his chest. He paled slightly and leaned against the door to support himself.

Derrick looked amused at Trevor's shock. "You appear like you've seen a ghost, Trevor." He joked.

"Who wouldn't after you disappearing for almost four damn years, you ungrateful boy!" Trevor scolded as he opened the door wider for Derrick to enter.

Derrick chuckled. "You still haven't changed, Trevor. Still acting like a reprimanding father." He said as he glanced around the room. There were only several additions to the house but it still looked like how it did the night he left almost four years ago.

Trevor huffed as he closed the door. "Yes, well, I did treat you like my son, milord. You were the cause of most of my migraines for the past 20 years, boy. And still is." He added with a glare.

"Yeah, well, that's the joy of life, Trev." Derrick said a bit distractedly. "Um, where is _she_?"

Trevor raised an eyebrow, his gaze challenging. "'She', milord?"

Derrick was uncomfortable saying her name since it always brought him a sullen mood. "She, you know, the woman."

Trevor refused to give up. "What woman, Your Grace?"

"My wife, who else?" Derrick raised his voice, irritation echoing his tone. "I almost forgot how annoying you could get." And then shook his head as he climbed the grand staircase.

Trevor secretly smiled. "Oh, the duchess. She went out for a walk with Claire."

"Who?" He wasn't familiar to any woman who was named Claire.

"Her lady's maid, milord." Trevor tagged along him as he headed for the study.

"What happened to Lisette?"

"Well, she eloped with the Lancaster's gardener two years ago, milord." Trevor informed him as they entered the study.

Derrick went behind the desk and began opening drawers, searching for something yet he paused to laugh. "Huh. I always thought there was something between those two."

Trevor, too, laughed. "Yes, well, apparently there was. Might I ask, milord, what it is you're looking for."

Derrick took out a bunch of files from a drawer and began flipping through them. "The titles to my grandfather's land in York. I'm planning to open a race track there. It's about time the derby race in Newport gets a tough competition."

Trevor was suddenly silent. "Um, milord, all the important documents are hidden by the duchess in a safe which only her locket can open. It's in her bedroom, milord. Ever since an intruder was able to get inside the house a year ago, the duchess had made sure that all important documents were hidden safely. And only she knows where the safe is exactly in her chambers, milord."

Derrick banged the drawer close. "Well, damn! Looks like I've got to talk to her. Joy." He sarcastically murmured as he moved to the huge window overlooking the garden below. "Where the hell is that woman?"

"I thought I already told you she's out –″ Trevor started to explain but Derrick cut him off.

"No, what I meant was how long does her 'walk' usually take? And who the hell takes walks at this time of the day? It's bloody hot outside. Doesn't she have anything more important to do?" It ruined his mood to know that he had to talk to her and, well, meet her face-to-face.

Well, he knew that he would have to meet the inevitable – to come face-to-face with her. The news of his arrival must have not reached her yet because knowing her, he would have made the impossible possible and meet him then beg for him to take her back. The clingy, damned chit. So predictable and entirely disposable.

He was about to turn around, tell Trevor that he'll be back tonight, and leave when he heard an unfamiliar laugh coming from the garden below.

There were two women entering the garden through the side and ambling on the stone path walk surrounding the small fountain in the middle. The woman who was laughing was wearing a worn out brown maid's dress and with a bonnet on her head. She had blonde hair that ended just below her shoulders. She was near the plump side and was only averagely tall.

Then his gaze turned to the woman beside her. She was wearing a yellow walking gown with her shoulders completely bare and upper back just almost bare. She was taller than the woman by three inches. She had porcelain skin which seemed to glow against the sun. Her auburn hair which was slightly curled was gathered in a messy yet fashionable bun at the side of her head near her ear with several stray locks falling down against her exposed neck. He couldn't tell if she was voluptuous since she had her back at him but there were hints of opulent breasts when she raised her arm pointing at a rose bush not far from where they were standing. Her waist was narrow and even hidden beneath thick masses of clothing and petticoat, Derrick could tell she had long extensive legs.

And then she turned to the side, pointing at another group of flowers at her left, granting Derrick a slightly vague yet good view of her half-turned face.

Dear God, it was his mystery woman from the party last night!

He could feel his heart rate accelerate and his manhood react at the recognition.

He overlooked the fact or the question why she was in his house but turned to Trevor with an excited yet mischievous grin. "Trevor. Come here."

With one eyebrow raised, he moved to stand behind Derrick by the window.

"Who is that woman?" He asked, pointing towards the picturesque woman who had invaded his dreams last night.

Trevor hid a smile. He knew who he was asking about but he wanted to make sure. "Which one, milord?" He asked innocently.

"The one in yellow." _The beautiful one. The sexy temptress._

At that same moment, the woman his fantasy seductress was with glanced towards the window, saw him and nudged the subject of his carnal dreams.

She turned at the same time Trevor replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Why, it's your wife, milord."

Trevor might as well have told him he was gay because he got the same reaction from the duke.

"Oh, God." Massie whispered when she saw who it was standing by the window of the study, looking straight at her, with Trevor.

Their eyes met and by the look of great surprise and disbelief he had, she knew without any doubt that he was finally aware of who she was.

Reacting in panic, Massie bent down to lift her skirt up a bit and ran away like what she did last night. She entered the house with Claire running and shouting in confusion behind her but she was faster. She was already by the hall when she heard Derrick shouting, "Wait! Massie, wait!" from upstairs. She knew he was trying to catch her.

Massie increased her pace and was out the door in a few seconds. There was a carriage waiting in front of the townhouse. It was surely his.

"Drive!" Massie yelled at the stunned coachman who was about to argue. "I'll triple whatever he's paying you." She added and the coachman immediately move behind the reins.

Massie, relieved, jumped inside the carriage and closed the door behind her. As soon as she was inside, the stagecoach bolted into a run.

When they were more than five houses away from the townhouse, Massie allowed herself to relax and slumped back against the cushions. She wasn't sure yet where she was going. She thought at Josh's but she remembered he wouldn't be back from Newport until tomorrow night when they will meet at the opening of her museum which will be a big event. A lot of foreign royalty will attend and even the Prince of Wales and the King of England will show their support by coming.

She squealed in surprise when the door to the carriage suddenly flew open and Derrick across from her. He nonchalantly closed the door when he was seated.

"Whew. That was probably the best welcome-back gesture anyone has ever given me since I arrived in this bloody town." He commented, brushing off the dust he acquired when he ran after the carriage.

Massie simply stared at him in shock.

"I see I've rendered you speechless." Derrick said still not looking at her. When he was satisfied that he was dust-free, he finally allowed himself to gaze at her.

Jesus, he still couldn't believe this was the girl he married.

She looked so sexy and damned tempting, unconsciously biting her lip and wringing her hands. Her breasts were heaving from her ragged breathing as if she were going to suffocate any time. When his gaze fell onto her chest and saw the amount of cleavage she was showing, he instantly felt the sudden urge to sew the deep neckline together.

He shook the feeling off. "God, you look different."

Massie snapped out of her stupor. She recognized his tone and knew where his thoughts were. She wasn't going to allow herself to be bewitched by him again. She controlled her emotions, hid them behind the mask she had artfully mastered, and put on a blank, almost indifferent expression. "Well, yes. You look different, too, my lord."

Derrick saw the sudden swift of her emotions. She was suddenly still and composed, no longer fidgeting. She sat straight, her back like a cord, her chin held up in a haughty manner and her hands were folded primly on top of the other. He stared intently at her, his gaze probing, searching for any signs of emotion. There wasn't any. He was confused. He didn't know what the cause of her sudden change was.

"Not as much as you, though. You look so…" Derrick couldn't find the perfect word. _Beautiful? Gorgeous? Exquisite? _"Mature. You look so mature." He repeated.

Massie only nodded, still showing no signs of feeling, and turned to glance at the window, pretending to look at the people walking down the sidewalk. She realized they were going back to the townhouse. "What is it you need, Redvers?" She took on a business-like tone which she used with her clients and business associates.

She caught Derrick raising an eyebrow at the corner of her eye. "Well, do I have to have any agenda to talk to my _wife_?"

She almost flinched at the word but she restrained herself. "Considering the circumstances, you do."

Derrick noticed the action. _She's good_, he thought with an impressed smile. "I just want to talk, Massie. That's all." He placed his hand on her knee.

This time Massie couldn't contain her flinch. She turned and looked at him sharply. "Get your hand off of me, Redvers."

Derrick smiled that irresistible smile of his and squeezed her knee.

The shiver that ran through Massie's body didn't go unnoticed by Derrick.

Massie pushed his hand away roughly and opened the door as the stagecoach came to a stop in front of the townhouse. Before she walked up the stairs, she turned to Derrick with a firm set on her jaw and a cold look on her eyes.

"I warn you, Redvers, don't you dare barge into my life because the last thing I need is a pompous mutt to impair it." She threatened. "If ever you need anything, contact my attorney. Have a good day, Your Grace." She turned around strode regally towards the steps.

Derrick stared at her retreating figure. At the corner of his eye, he saw the servants with Trevor in the front, eyeing them through the window. They scurried off when the front door banged close.

It seemed like days passed but Derrick just continued staring at her, wishing at the back of his mind that she would pass by a window so he could get a view of her again.

He still couldn't believe it was Massie. But he was more intrigued than confused on why she seemed so different, cold and formal. No, being cold would mean showing of emotions. She, on the other hand, had no emotions. Or at least, showed nothing. It was like reading a blank piece of parchment. Hollow but intriguing.

He knew now what he was going to do and where he needed to go.

"To Harriet's, Fred." He said, leaning his head against the cushion.

What place was better to find out about the current and previous gossips in town than a brothel?

"Derrick, darling!" Harriet, herself, met him at the lounging room. "Why you just left my place awhile ago! To what pleasure do I owe you?" She sat on the chaise opposite him.

Harriet was in her late-thirties yet she still looked twenty five. She had deep burgundy hair that stopped just at the middle of her back yet she rarely let it loose. Her hair was always tied in a messy bun on top of her head. She had big brown eyes and bloody red lips. Her fingernails were long and also painted red as were her toenails. She was a tall woman, just a few inches shorter than Derrick 6 feet tall and two inches frame. She was most commonly known as the "Amazon Cherry".

But despite her profession, Harriet had a kind and good-natured personality. She saw the best in the worst of people and she wasn't the one to make rash judgments. Most of all, she was a great and true friend.

"I met my wife." Derrick began, twirling the glass of whiskey. "Apparently, she was my mystery woman from the party last night."

"What happened?"

"Well, she made her displeasure of seeing me crystal clear."

Harriet laughed. "I've gathered as much."

Derrick ignored her and slammed the glass on the table in front of him. "Damn, she's just so different! And more infuriating." He added, remembering her stubborn attitude.

"And tempting." Harriet commented.

Derrick turned to her and gave a tight nod. "Damned right she is."

"And so where do I fit in here?" Harriet asked, although she had an idea what.

"I need to know more about her. Well, at least, what happened to her while I was gone."

_Right guess_, Harriet thought. "As much as I have heard, she started coming out and socializing again only three years ago. Before that, she just stayed in that townhouse of yours and constantly visiting her family's countryhouse at Yorkshire. A year after you left, her papa died from heart attack while riding with his friends. I can't elaborate more on that subject." She said. "Then a few months after that, there were news that the Duchess of Redvers was buying out properties in London to convert them into businesses and that she was going to run that big shipping company her papa inherited to her. Her first few months after the transfer to her had been quite difficult since a lot of men rebelled and protested against her because of her gender. She fought head-to-head, toe-to-toe against them and to everyone's surprise and astonishment, she won the case. Still, she was being doubted upon.

"That was until she discovered the fastest way to travel by water." Harriet paused to await Derrick's reaction.

Realization dawned on him. "Hold on for just a minute." He leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. "Are you telling me that my wife was the one who discovered the use of the steamboat?"

He looked so damned incredulous that Harriet took pleasure at it. "Technically, no, she did not. There was this old man who worked for her father for quite a time now. He's been having ideas about it but since he lacked the funds, he couldn't by any means build one. I don't really know the particulars but as far as the entire _ton _is aware of, the duchess found out about his idea and financed the building of three steamboats, at that time. She also made the old man her partner in the company – so generous and kind-hearted for to do so since the fellow was knee-deep in his debts but had a good heart. To shorten the long story, the steamboat got its well-deserved attention all over the world in the past years and had improved England's economy and tourism just as much. She also personally dealt with business affairs and transactions with possible clients here or abroad with as much intelligence and wit as any man could possess. Needless to say, she was no longer looked down. She was, in many ways, seen as the savior of England." She chuckled then. "Hah. I even heard a rumor that the son of the King of France, the gorgeous one, asked for her to be his mistress. Rumor had it a lot of royalties offered her similar propositions. She's got more suitors than Cleopatra." And chuckled again, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She dabbed a handkerchief at them.

Derrick's eyes narrowed into slits. "Well, did she accept any of them?"

Harriet glanced up at him and saw the anger in his eyes. "Hold your horses down, boy. She didn't accept any. Your wife was as loyal as any woman can get while you…" she left the sentence hanging. "She refrained from making any personal ties, let me tell you that."

Derrick ignored her jibe. "So, we know that my wife had been a business tycoon while I was gone, had acquired flocks of assholes as suitors and has probably the Prince Regent kissing her feet." He recounted.

Harriet was nodding at every detail. "Yep. That's about it."

"That still doesn't explain how she had change in appearance and why the emotional distancing."

Harriet looked at him pointedly. "Are you really that dumb, Derrick? Hasn't it passed your thick mind that she might have changed to become the woman she thought deserved to stand beside you?"

Derrick only gaped at her.

"Everyone knows how in love she was with you, you ungrateful bastard." Harriet _tsk_ed at him and stood up. "If I were your wife, I would burn you to ashes."

"She's going to be mine again, Harriet, just you wait and see." He called out as a challenge to Harriet.

Harriet stopped by the door and turned to look at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Wanna bet on that? If you get her to return to you, I'll give you one of my Thoroughbreds you had been dying to get your hands on ever since you were a boy."

Derrick stared at her cautiously. "And if I don't?"

She grinned evilly at him. "You get to buy me and my girls every piece of jewelry and dresses here in London."

Derrick smiled back at her, raising his glass. "You've got yourself a bet, darling." And downed the drink in just one gulp.

"Have those beautiful items reserve already, sweet pie, because you'll be losing." She winked at him and blew him a kiss before she finally left the room.


	7. Author's Note

**Bonjour, les amis! (Haha. That's 'Hello, friends' in French (:) **

**Anyway, this is not an update. Just a short Author's Note containing things I want you, my friends, to know/be aware of.**

**I won't be able to update because I'm revamping this story. YES, REVAMPING it, people. For the following reasons:**

**1. I just read the story and spotted a few things that were not on the same page with each other. Just like the time line. I set the story during the Victorian Age when, in fact, the _ton_ was weakening. Its start and zenith occurred during the Georgian-Regency Era. And since the _ton _is mainly the center of our story and Derrick and Massie's romance, I thought it ought to be corrected. And there were others, too.**

**I just discovered that I'm a European-history junkie and I took offense in my errors. Boo-hoo me. :(**

**2. I'm changing the title of the story into something more explosively fantastic. Haha. **

**3. And there's a whole lot more reasons. **

**Anyways, I won't be able to update soon since I'm squeezing writing this into school stuff and those whatnots. And I want when I update, I would be able to update consecutively so that you, my lovely readers, wouldn't be left hanging and waiting for my updates too long. So, I'll be focusing on making, 5 or more chapters first, before I post the next and the next and the next and the next. Well, you get the idea.**

**So, I'm going to take a hiatus from here. Probably two weeks, I'm not sure. It depends on the speed of my writing. Plus my school work and all. **

**But I promise I'll be back with a better Play With Fire and I'm sure you'll DEFINITELY enjoy it more. **

**And that's not only my promise. But Derrick, Massie and... Josh's promise to you. ;)**

**Le séjour a accordé. Adieu! :***

**( Stay tuned. Bye! )  
**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Massie's schedule for the next day was nothing but crucial.

First she needed to visit the office first thing in the morning for her weekly rounds. Then she had to drop by her library to check for the inventory of the books which just arrived from Madrid last night. After that, she had to head back home and get ready for the visit of the aunt of the Prince of Germany to discuss about the hospitals they were planning to put up in every estate of the German royal family.

Massie was a well-known hospital developer. She had the best men, designs, technology and tools for the matter. A lot of rich men and women contacted her and asked for her help to build hospitals (which were very few during that age) around the continent.

She guessed the meeting would only be brief, probably two hours, since all they had to do was finalize everything they had decided upon over the past months. But they would most probably spend the next few hours exchanging gossip. Like always. Lady Van Burgien was an avid of scandal and gossip. She knew everything about anyone and welcomed all opportunities for more "knowledge". Massie didn't know much about what was happening in London but that didn't matter because Lady Van Burgien did all the talking and Massie the listening. Their meeting would probably take up the entire afternoon what with the thousand sacks of gossip and intrigue the lady carried with her all the time.

But Massie's day won't end with the meeting with the honorable Lady Van Burgien.

The rest of her evening was occupied by the opening of her Art Exhibit which was located at the heart of the city. It was going to be the highlight of the year since every prominent personality in London will come and pay her their support. Among these elite guests was the Prince Regent himself.

She had devoted her time and money over this museum for the last six months. When she came across a beautiful painting in a small museum in Lombardy while on a business trip a year ago, she discovered that she also possessed a passion for art dealing. The bargain and correspondence with the painter himself was tiring and almost impossible. _Almost_. Massie used her skills in persuasion and offered the man a huge chunk of money. But that was still not enough for the gluttonous man. Because the beauty of the art was so rare and divine, Massie was determined to acquire it. She had no choice but to involve some piece of wicked cunning.

Massie made known that she was married to Derrick James Harrington, 12th Duke of Redvers ― the one man Satan himself feared, many said.

And the exquisite painting now displayed its splendor in the drawing room at the Redver's ancestral townhouse in London.

After such exhilarating experience and the feeling of bliss that overcame her when she saw it hung at her home, Massie realized that she had an aptitude at art dealing.

And thus, her idea of putting up a museum for all talented painters around Europe who lacked the financial capabilities to show the world their masterpieces was born.

Everyone expected the event to be grand and worth-remembering for the next century.

Massie inwardly groaned, dreading her day, envisioning the stress she'll acquire at the end of it. She just hoped the result would be compensating. On her part, of course.

But on the bright side, she was Derrick-free. She had the reassurance over breakfast when one of the servants babbled on and on about what she heard while going to the market. It was rumored that Derrick had left London again after being seen at the docks at dawn, boarding his darling vessel, most popularly known as the _Siren_. He was leaving again. That's for sure.

This time, though, Massie didn't shed a tear over him, having experienced it to be worthless and time-consuming. She faced the fact of his departure with a smile and a rather subtle cheerful deposition as how a woman presented with the Crown jewels would react.

As she realized that the carriage had come to a stop, she shook herself out of her thoughts and straightened the crisps that had formed on her impeccably-made walking gown from the bumpy ride.

"About time you arrived."

She smiled as she saw Guy Willander, her business partner, making his way towards her from the other side of the docks where he had been talking with one of the crewmen.

"I apologize for being unpunctual, Guy." She told him as she looped her arm around his offered one. "I've been awfully busy for the past few days and rarely get a good sleep."

Guy glanced at her and saw the dark circles under her eyes. He also thought she looked thinner. "You've been stressing yourself out, missy." He began in his usual paternal tone whenever he was concerned about her. He had assumed the role of a father to Massie ever since she offered to finance for his invention – the steamboat which made transportation through water easier and faster - and get him as a business partner. 'Twas the truth the lass needed a parent. "I thought you said you hired one of those annoying little midgets you call as lawyer, accountant and a secretary to help you with your businesses. Looks to me like you still get to work even more than you should be after hiring those imbeciles which I specifically remember opposing to." He scolded. "Told you it would be a bad decision and look now."

Massie didn't seem the least bit offended by his words. She knew he was just being worried about her. Guy had been more like a father to her than a business partner. She knew she could always count on him and ask him for advice. The man had never married and therefore didn't have any children but he was a kind gentleman who Massie had learned to trust, care and love for as a daughter would love her father.

And it wasn't a secret that Guy liked to scold Massie because for him scolding and giving advice were a "wise man's job".

Massie suppressed a chuckle. She didn't want Guy to think she was laughing at him. "Yes, Guy, I hired Thomas, Denver and Hans to help me with my affairs and yes, they've been a great help. They've been visiting and going to my other businesses and not having to go down the country or go up every week, I'm most certainly grateful of. And, they're not imbeciles, Guy. I wouldn't have hired them if they were. I just felt like I had to get myself busy. I tend to go into depression and think of other things when I don't have my hands and mind on anything other than business."

She intended for him to take it as a jest. Guy took it at heart.

"Ahh." He said in that calm yet worried voice of his. "I heard about your husband's return earlier this day over breakfast. I take it that you and he have seen each other again." It wasn't a question or a guess. It was a statement he was definitely sure of.

Massie went stiff as a board but tried to suppress the reaction. She didn't want Guy to think she was falling for her imbecile for a husband again. "Yes, actually, we have." She made her tone neutral as if they were discussing the rate of the stocks at the stock market.

Guy wasn't easily fooled, however, but he knew better than to push Massie. She had been through enough and just needed a fresh start. "Well, good, then. Come on. You have to see the newly built steamboat. It looks absolutely _parfait_." Guy sounded so excited and proud of his newest design that Massie immediately forgot about Derrick.

For the next two hours, Massie went around the docks with Guy to check the progress of the company. They had a year full of steamboat orders from other private or official companies. They also had to go over the expenses and the financial progress of the company. So far, for the past three or two years that Massie had started handling the company, they already lost twelve boats and one steamboat. The steamboat was in its third-time testing to be out on the market when it sunk. But once Guy was able to pinpoint the flaws of the first steamboat, they were able to build two steamboats during the first year. His designs were fitting for the likes of the _beau monde_ that they started purchasing one for themselves and in a matter of months, thousands of pounds were coming in the company. Now they have progressed into releasing more than ten steamboats for travel every day while selling five steamboats at most every week.

Massie had always enjoyed going around the docks, talking to her employees and the crewmen because they were like family to her, including her servants and staff. And they treated her as family, too. She was so kind and generous and understanding and beautiful, inside and out, that they all felt a need to protect her and be her guardians. She was so fortunate to have such loyal and trusting friends.

Massie was currently left alone, passing by the _Emerald_ which was her mother's favorite ship and was named after her, when she stopped and just stared at it for a long time. Guy was called to the office and had insisted that she go on ahead without him. Massie was glad for the privacy because she did not want anyone to see her at such vulnerable state. Her eyes held no barriers, shielding the sadness and loneliness in them, and had gone watery by the time memories of her family flooded back to her.

God, she missed her mother so much.

She remembered the last time she and her family had been aboard the ship.

_FLASHBACK_

"_Maman! Maman! Look!" ten-year-old Massie called out gleefully to her mother as they ambled along the deck of the Emerald._

_Massie tugged relentlessly on her mother's hand and dragged her near the railing, pointing out to the beautiful sunset before them._

"_Beauitful, isn't it, _petite fille_?" her mother smiled at her daughter's joy. "Just like you, Massie. Just like you."_

_Massie looked up to stare at her mother's eyes and saw the sadness in there. "Oh, Maman! I said something bad, haven't I? I made you cry. Papa will never forgive me." Massie looked like she was about to cry, too._

_Emerald sniffed delicately and patted the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief with such grace that would put the queen to shame. She hugged her daughter close and kissed the top of her head. "No, no, _bébé_. I was just happy."_

_Massie looked at her, uncertain still. "But you were crying. How could you be happy, Maman?"_

"_Sometimes, when we're so happy that we can't contain it, we cry, _ma chère_ Massie. But it's tears of joy. Not of sorrow. There are more ways than one to express your happiness, daughter, and crying is one of them. Remember that." _

"_I will, Maman, I will. Even if it doesn't make any sense, I will." Massie smiled up at her._

_It brought a tightness into Emerald's heart. "I love you, Massie."_

"_I love you, too, Mama."_

_END OF FLASHBACK_

Three months after that, they found out that Emerald was sick from something that even the best doctors couldn't find the cure to. She was rarely allowed to travel or go out for fear that she might suddenly collapse and there wouldn't be any doctors near so she was just detained in her room, lying on her bed, looking as tired as she had never been.

It was the most painful chapter in Massie's life.

"Your Grace!"

She was snapped out of her stupor when she heard someone approaching and the familiar voice of Chester, the young man who she had found loitering the streets of London one afternoon a year before and had taken upon herself to help him by hiring him as one of her employees in the office, calling out to her. She hastily wiped her tears away, took a deep breath and turned around to find him running towards her.

She was instantly worried. "Slow down, Chester. Is anything wrong?"

Chester stopped a few feet from him and bent on his knees to catch his breath. "Mr. Hackerman calls for you at the office. He said you had an important visitor, waiting for you there. I think you really should go, my lady. The boss looked angry at something."

Massie nodded and hurried off to the office. She maintained her grace as she half-ran because it was a known fact that she hated being seen in such distress.

By the time she reached the office, Guy was coming out, looking annoyed. The door was left half-open.

"What's wrong, Guy? Did something bad happen?" Massie panicked. She hoped there wasn't any problem because she was sure she couldn't handle the added stress it would bring.

Guy simply shook his head and took her hand in both of his. "Nothing, child. Nothing." He looked at her in silence for awhile. Massie couldn't decipher if it was from pity or sadness.

"Guy, what's wrong?" Massie looked worried. "Chester said someone wants to see me and it's urgent. It's nothing bad, right?"

"Satan's advocate, more like it." Guy muttered in a surprisingly furious tone.

Massie was too busy thinking of the worst situations in her mind that she didn't quite catch what he said. "What did you just say?" She asked, confused.

Guy shook his head. "You better not keep your visitor waiting. It's bad manners, child." He let go of her hands and gave her a little push towards the office.

Massie looked back at him in full bewilderment but obeyed, awfully curious of who was waiting for her at the other side of the door.

She pushed the door open and was gaped at who her visitor was.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Massie shouted, not even bothering to close the door behind her as she took two steps inside the office.

Derrick was lounging on the small settee in the office. He had his hands folded behind his head while his ankles were also crossed. His head was facing her and he was whistling a gay tune as his foot moved from left to right in accordance with the music his skilled lips was producing.

He looked so comfortable and sexy that Massie had to _force_ herself to get angry at him.

At the sound of her voice, he jumped up to his feet a little too fast without outbalancing himself. Massie was amazed at his stealth. He was a tall and muscular guy: six feet tall, muscled on his biceps and thighs, and had a really flat stomach. He also seemed more tanned.

She thought he was absolutely, sinfully gorgeous.

Derrick was also appraising her, only his was more blatant. Every time he would turn to look at her or every time he sees her, he still couldn't get over the fact that she was the same simple little chit he had married four years ago. Her beauty took his breath away. He eyed her well-formed bosom which happened to be showing a bit more than it should in her delectable green walking gown and the rosy fullness of her lips.

He thought she was the most perfect and exquisite creature who had ever walked on Earth.

The way he was looking at her made Massie self-conscious and at the same time, warm. Quickly shoving these thoughts aside, she turned around to close the momentarily open door and turned back around to face him.

"I'm asking you again, Redvers,_ what do you think are you doing here_?" She demanded with a glare.

"Well, good morning to you, too, _sweetheart_." He mocked, casually leaning against a bookshelf on his right, folded his arms over his chest and crossed his ankles. He gave her a heart-stopping boyish grin.

She tried not to notice her heartbeat increasing as he smiled at her so handsomely and tried not to flinch when he called her "sweetheart" in such a sarcastic voice.

"I am not your sweetheart and don't ever try calling me that again." She walked to stand beside the door and open it for him. "Now that we've established that wonderfully said greeting, you can now leave." She held her head up high and added an icy glare to emphasize that she meant it.

When he didn't move, she thought about crying out like madwoman if that would make him leave. But she didn't want to go through such childish lengths just for him. "I think I specifically told you not to bother me anymore and if you have any other concerns or anything at all, you can go to my lawyer. Now _leave_!" She shouted emphatically.

He moved with great speed. One second she was standing feet away from him holding the door open while he stood quietly and motionlessly near the bookshelf and the next second he had her pinned against the door which he smoothly shut with his boot and they stood inches from each other, his hands holding hers at the sides.

"Now what were you just saying?" He whispered, his breath at her face.

She looked so damned beautiful glaring up at him with such courage and defiance that he also found equally attractive as her appearance. He suddenly felt like he needed to kiss her. Not because he wanted to shag her but simply for the sole reason that he wanted to find out if the blazing passion between them whenever they kissed before was still there.

Slowly, his head bent lower, his mouth moved closer.

**Notes to this chapter:**

***Lombardy = a city in northern central Italy, a major commercial and industrial center**

***Prior to the timeline I set my story, several people already invented the steamboat. But what Guy Willander who is a product of my imagination and therefore, not the real inventor of the steamboat, invented is the commercial steamboat which could accommodate 300 passengers and could travel for months without having any problem. It was built for a commercial transportation. **

***The sickness that Emerald, Massie's mother, died from was colon cancer and during this time, it was still an unknown illness which the doctors had no cure of.**

*****_**Maman**_** = French for "Mom/Mommy"**

*****_**petite-fille = **_**French for "little girl"**

***** _**bébé = **_**French for "baby"**

***** _**ma chère = **_**French for "my darling"**

**I am so evil! HAHAHAHA! But I thought it was perfect to end it there. ;)**

**Again, I know I've been so neglectful with my duties as a writer here but I've been so terribly busy with school and getting myself busier and busier so that I wouldn't think of certain ungrateful things. I guess you can say that my life has been like Massie's before Derrick returned. She spent one year mourning for him and the rest of his almost-four-year absence making up her life for her own. She hardly had time to think of other things than burying herself in her businesses. Well, after I've gotten it into my head that my ex was a fricking asshole ( sorry for the language ), I doubled my work at school and concentrated in getting my grades higher since I've been neglecting them. Today is actually the only free time I got without much homework and exams to fuss about. School just ended last week and I spent those days writing chapters so that I could update faster. I've already had 4 chapters written. :)**

**Oh, and take note that I already revised some chapters namely, Chapters 1, 5 and 6 since I spotted some errors and I had to change some details. But to narrow them down, here are the changes I made:**

**1) I changed Hattie's name to Harriet because there was a Harriet Wilson during the Regency Era who was identical to my character. Harriet Wilson An infamous courtesan who took London by storm with her sisters Amy and Sophia, Harriet was the daughter of a humble Swiss clock maker. By the age of 15, she had already elevated herself as the mistress of the Earl of Craven. When that liaison ended, she took up with the Duke of Argyll, who also had an affair with her sister, Amy. The young Marquess of Worcester wanted to marry Harriet, but his father, the Duke of Beaufort, paid her off and sent his son to Spain. When Harriet broke the terms of her agreement by writing to Worcester, the duke cut off her funds and, good business woman that she was, Harriet threatened to sue him. Some of her other "clients" were said to include the ****Prince Regent****, ****Wellington****, and Lord Palmerston. At 40, she published a tell-all autobiography that named names. Prior to publication, thinking to make more money by NOT publishing it, she and her publisher made sure to circulate drafts to several of the important men mentioned in the book, suggesting that for a sizable donation, she would agree to omit passages in which they were mentioned. It is said that over 200 letters were sent to former clients, asking for an annual annuity of £20, or a lump sum of £200 to keep their names out of her memoirs. ****Wellington**** is famously said to have replied, "Publish and be damned." Others, including, some say, ****George IV****, paid up. Harriet's memoirs, published in 1825, were a bestseller, even though much of it was known to be completely fictional. **

**2) I also changed the time when this started. If you recall, it was set in 1857 but I changed it to 1810.**

**3) I said that Massie runs an oil company. I changed it to a shipping company. **

**Yeah, I think that's just about it.**

**And to **_**Beachbabe010 **_**who said that every time I update, she jumps for joy, and if I could update fast and put you, my lovely readers, out of misery, well, I guess you got your wish. I'm going to update every day from now on since I have already written 4 chapters and I am still continuing to write the next chapters. :)**

**If anyone wants to talk about anything or has problems but feels like you can't talk to anyone, I'm hardly the kind of person who judges people so you can talk to me. K? K! :))**

**Review? REVIEW! :D :))))**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"_Now what were you just saying?" He whispered, his breath at her face._

_She looked so damned beautiful glaring up at him with such courage and defiance that he also found equally attractive as her appearance. He suddenly felt like he needed to kiss her. Not because he wanted to shag her but simply for the sole reason that he wanted to find out if the blazing passion between them whenever they kissed before was still there._

_Slowly, his head bent lower, his mouth moved closer.

* * *

_

He didn't see it coming. One minute he was leaning down to her with every intention to kiss the _colère_ out of her and the next minute, she was jumping up and down, clutching her right hand to her chest, cursing him to the pits of hell.

"Ow! Ow! _Ow!_" She yelled in pain, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "Damn it!"

The sight ― Massie prepped up so ladylike and decent while jumping up and down and yelling obscenities which were unexpected to come out from a lady of the _ton_ ― amused Derrick so much that he laughed out loud, causing the delicate little lady to stop mid-curse and focus her wrath entirely at him.

"Did you just laugh?" She asked in a low, measured tone.

Derrick grinned at her.

He realized his mistake when a tick appeared just above her cheek.

Oh, damn, he definitely riled her, all right.

"Out!" She shouted, forgetting the stinging pain in her hand. "Out, Redvers, now!" She moved to open the door but Derrick stopped the movement by grabbing her by the elbow.

She flinched.

"Now, now, sweetheart – ″

"Out!"

"The reason for my visit is ― ″

"Out!"

"Mass, if you'll only listen to me ―″

"I said, out, Redvers!"

"Now, honey, there's no need to overreact." He said in a soothing voice which annoyed Massie more than his wickedly handsome features.

Massie flushed a deep red though Derrick knew that it wasn't because of chagrin. No, the murderous look on her face confirmed that. "_No need to overreact_?"

Uh-oh. Now he was dead.

"Leave now if you don't want me to pick up my parasol and bloody your head with it!" The firm set on her jaw, the conviction in her threat, the deep angry heaving of her chest and the daggers her eyes were shooting at him convinced Derrick not to push her any further. With a defeated sigh, he nodded and walked around her to open the door and leave.

The old man who stopped by her office earlier and found him lounging on the settee was camped outside the office along with a young man who was probably in his twenties. Both men were glaring at him as he strode past them. He figured they heard his _pleasant _conversation with his wife and that was probably the reason why their eyes directed toward him shouted bloody murder.

Derrick was already about to enter his stagecoach which was parked along the entrance of the company's main office when he heard someone calling his name. Bellowing it was more like it.

"Your Grace!"

Derrick turned around to face the person who was bravely yelling his name in such an insolent tone. "Yes?" He stared at him from head to toe, sizing him up, daring him.

"I know I'm not in any position to tell you this but the Duchess has been like a daughter to me for the past years, years which were very hard for her, as what I've heard and witnessed." He paused to give him a more meaningful glance filled with hatred. "If your plan is to lead her on a merry chase and give her high hopes of you loving her and then simply leaving her queer as Dick's hatband _again, _then you might just abandon that said plan and leave her alone. From what I've heard awhile ago, son, she made it quite clear about her position. You don't deserve her. She's too good and beautiful – inside and out – for someone so callous like you. So, pack up your bags and leave before you hurt the pretty lass's heart again."

Derrick had remained silent and still during the old man's fervent _discours_. He waited for the old folly to finish before he took one step closer, towering over the man. He didn't show his surprise, though, when the man didn't cower away like most of the men do when he assume his "superior" stance. "First of all, you are correct in knowing that you are not in any position to instruct me, much less insult me in any way. Second, I myself am not aware of such plan you're accusing me of possessing and I am not sure where you get such ludicrous notions. Third and pay attention, old man, the Duchess Massie Harrington of Redvers is my wife and, though, I made many mistakes in the past, I am back to fix them. Yes, she may be too good for the likes of me but know this, I will make it up to her."

With that said, Derrick turned arrogantly and climbed his elegant black carriage, ordering the coachman to drive the damned vehicle. The horses thundered away noisily but not before he heard the old man shout to him:

"I'll slit your throat if you hurt her again! Mark my words, Redvers!"

_I should not have lost my cool. I should not have lost my cool. I should not have lost my cool._

Massie continued to mentally berate herself all throughout the drive to London Main Street where her book shop was found at. Once she had managed to send Derrick out of her office, she plopped down on the settee and cried herself until no tears could be shed anymore.

She hadn't cried for almost two years now. The realization had struck her as she was wiping the tears away with her white handkerchief. She had prepared herself for the possibility that her husband would return all throughout the years. She had mentally and physically prepared herself. She would meet him head-on, her face would be as indifferent and cold as stone, and her voice would sound formal and business-like. Yes, she had envisioned it all. And over the years of practice and preparation, she had expected herself to accomplish such then-thought easy feat.

What she hadn't expected that after all the pain she'd induced from him and the tears she'd shed for him, she would still harbor the same feelings for him she had before.

Damn her weak wretched heart.

Massie closed her eyes and placed a hand on her forehead as if she was attempting to cease the turmoil inside her mind. She NEEDED to stop thinking about him or else, she would be too distracted to accomplish any of her duties now. She had so many things to do and little time until eight o'clock tonight when the proper opening of her museum would commence. She did not need any distraction, especially a big one in the form of her bugger for a husband.

The question was _how_.

Massie groaned and willed the carriage to swallow her up.

Derrick strode past the doors to the private receiving area of the mistress of the most popular seraglio in London which only catered to the rich and/or titled. Harriet was there, all right, as what her guard at the entrance informed him, but what the guard did not tell him was that she was there with Cassandra, one of the females who worked in the brothel and who also happened to be one of the longest lovers of Derrick. The women were sitting on a separate velvet plush chair, sipping tea and probably speaking about some delicate, private topic, when Derrick barged inside, his strong presence commanding attention.

As soon as Cassandra spotted him, her pouty red lips broke into an intimate smile. "Derrick, _mon amour_! What a delightful surprise!" She sinuously rose from the chair and danced her way towards him, adding a blatant seductive sway to her hips. She threw her arms around him with a familiar smile. "I missed you so much, darling." She purred. "I heard from one of the ladies here of your return just yesterday and I was begin to wonder when you would pay me a visit."

Already ill-tempered and all-a-gog from his bitter encounter with his wife, Derrick was irritated with her. He didn't even feel any lust or anything when she had so brazenly threw herself against him, unlike before when anything in a skirt could make him as hard as a rock. God, he must be getting old. "Hello, Cassandra, and good day to you." He greeted her politely, detaching himself from her without giving her even one glance. "Actually, I'm here to discuss something with the Madam. In private, if you don't mind." He turned to Harriet who was trying to keep her face straight. He figured Cassandra's face was as annoyed and insulted as hell. Well, he didn't have time for such petty woman.

He coolly made his way to Harriet, occupying the seat Cassandra had previously sat on, preparing himself a glass of brandy. He was aware that Cassandra was still there, most probably glaring daggers at him, while Harriet was still trying to contain her amusement and curiosity. Ignoring the ladies, he poured the contents of the near-heaven drink into the glass, raised it to his lips and emptied it in one fluid movement. He leaned back against the chair, closing his eyes, and stretched his long legs, resuming a comfortable position. Still sensing the icy stare of his previous lover, he expelled an irritated sigh and opened his eyes, raising them to meet Cassandra's.

He gave her a sardonic smile. "Oh, pardon me for my previous rudeness, _mademoiselle,_ but you still look as _luxuriant_ as before. Pray tell, my dear, who have you caught in your net while I've been remiss of mystud services? Knowing you, his wealth would probably be as beguiling as his… tools." His voice was so nonchalant that one would think they were discussing the weather forecast for this week. His eyes were jaded and his expression was of utter boredom as if he would fall asleep any minute.

Damn, if the rascal did not portray boredom as something sexy, Harriet thought.

She looked at Cassandra who appeared fuming now. She was so flushed that she looked like her face was painted with salmon pink. Her breasts which were only half-concealed in her low and indecently revealing décolletage were heaving in fury and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. Without saying anything more, she turned on her heels and stomped out the room.

"Close the door behind you, sweetheart!" Derrick called out as if he wasn't aware that his past lover was plotting poisoning him now.

He was answered by the door being banged shut. He swore the sound could be heard from the Main Street.

"Ahhh. Privacy, at last." Derrick said, pouring himself another drink.

Harriet watched with curiosity and amusement as he took a drink and twirled the glass in his hand. "That wasn't very socializing, Derrick." She rebuked him, though there was a hint of laughter in her tone.

Derrick snorted. "As if she had socializing in her mind."

They looked at each other and broke into laughter, replaying the look of anger on the wench's face.

"But enough with the socializing, my friend, I've got a crisis on my shoulders and it involves my dear little wife." Derrick said, in a serious tone now.

Harriet snickered. "I have gathered as much. Now tell me your distressing news." And so Derrick told her what happened in her office.

The Mistress of the House also poured herself a glass of brandy but did not take a drink. She merely held it in her hand as she leaned back against the soft chair and listened attentively on Derrick's brisk explanation of his encounter with the Duchess of Redvers and the old man he gathered as her business partner.

When Derrick finished his recounting of events, he had worked himself into a fit. "The damn chit's got more minions than Napoleon himself. I swear on my great-grandmother's grave that every employee at the shipping company was giving me the once-over. Such disrespectful fools! Their concern for their obstinate employer outranked their respect for me!" He was now pacing back and forth in front of the window. Harriet did not even notice him standing up. "She makes wooing her and getting her back more difficult than a navy fleet. I can't even say one straight explanation because she's already exhausting her throat shouting obscenities at me." Then he paused and looked at Harriet. "Damn, but she's such a challenge. I just can't get over her."

"Is she merely a challenge to you, Red?" She had gone back to calling him his nickname.

"What do you mean?"

He was stalling, Harriet knew that. "Do you see her simply as yet another conquest you just have to capture? A food for your ego?"

Derrick shifted his gaze to the window and stared at nothing in particular. Did he see her as a conquest? Just a conquest? Was the reason behind his incessant obsession over getting her back was because so far, she was the only woman who had resisted him? Was it her new beauty? Was it she made him ache for her more than any woman had and would have?

Or was it something else? Something deeper?

With all these questions in his mind, not one did Derrick answered.

Almost ten minutes have passed before he finally decided to answer his friend's question. "I don't know, Cher." He said with his back still facing her. "Yes, I'm curious about her. I want to know what happened to her after I left. Not from anyone but from her, personally. Yes, I do feel attracted to her but I don't know where the attraction borders: physical or emotional."

"But you said you can't get enough of her?" She asked.

"Yes." He answered almost immediately,

"And you think of her every second of every day?"

"Yes. Half the time, I think of strangling her but the other half, I think of making love to her. Well, hold on for a second. Now that I think of it, I think mostly about fuc ―″

"Derrick, just answer the damn question."

"Yes. I think about her every second of every day."

Harriet smiled. "And you feel jealous whenever you hear that some other man or rather, _men_, are interested and lusting after your wife."

Derrick seemed taken aback by what she said and he sat forward, squaring his shoulders. "Now, about that, Cher. I wouldn't really call it jealousy ―"

Harriet made an unladylike snort. "That's a load of rubbish, Red. You're jealous and you know it." She stared him down, challenging him to deny once again.

Derrick heaved a long, exasperated sigh. As much as he wanted to deny it, he could not because in truth, he really was damned jealous to the idea that some other guy was envisioning his wife together with him in passion. Jealousy was a foreign feeling to Derrick, second only to love. Through the years that he had dallied with women, he was aware that the women had other lovers. He never requested exclusivity – never even imagined himself being exclusive to only one woman. And now, he was beyond possessive towards his wife, whom did not even want to be with him again, and Derrick did not like the strange emotion.

"Okay. So, maybe, I am jealous." He retorted.

"Well, you need not sound so surly, _mon ami_." Harriet remarked with an amused grin.

Derrick glowered at her, downed the rest of his drink, and heaved himself off the velvet chair. He buttoned his dark blue frockcoat. "I see that you're making an entertainment out of my misery, _ma chère_. I deem there is no point in my visit since you're simply encouraging me into making a muck out of my feelings, instead of helping me solve it. It was a nice visit, though, Madam, and I wish you a pleasant day ahead." He bowed respectfully to her before marching out of the room briskly.

Harriet's laughter trailed after him as he made his way out the brothel.

As Derrick got inside his carriage, an idea entered his mind.

"To Redver's Townhouse!" He shouted to his coachman.

When the carriage started moving, Derrick allowed himself to lean back against the soft seat, folding his hands behind his head.

He was known to be insatiable, what can he say?

A mischievous smile grazed his lips as he thought of his afternoon ahead.

Massie was running late. And she hated being late.

After she took care of the problems and concerns at the docks, she had gone to London Main Street where her book shop was situated. She had planned earlier to stay at the shop for only an hour to address the problems there, too, and to personally check the inventory. She did not expect that the shop would be full of customers. A lot of them interrupted her inventory-checking to socialize and talk about the exhibit later. Some even dared to broach the subject about Derrick's return. Massie shook those thoughts away.

Upon arriving at the townhouse, she was in such hurry that she did not see the black carriage with the Redvers crest on it parked across the street from her townhouse. She jumped out of the coach, not waiting for the coachman to open the door for her, and dashed up the steps to the front door. Trevor was already there, waiting for him at the threshold.

"Has the aunt of the Prince of Germany arrived yet?" She asked him as soon as she entered the foyer.

"Good day, Your Grace. Yes, your guests have arrived already." He answered her calmly as he took the bonnet she had removed from her.

Massie turned to the hall mirror and fixed her hair. "Good, good. Have you served her tea already?" She inquired as she made her way hurriedly to the garden at the back.

Trevor tagged along behind her in a respectable distance. "Yes, I have taken it upon myself to serve _them _tea, marzipan pie and a variety of chocolate pastries."

There was a terrace at the back of the townhouse, overlooking the garden, where she often hosted social visits from several members of the _ton_. There was a connecting double glass door from the drawing room to the terrace. The terrace had a gorgeous view of the magnificently-landscaped garden and the breeze felt relaxing and wonderful. It was her most favorite part of the townhouse.

She was not paying attention to her surroundings. Massie was focused on how she would explain her tardiness to the woman. Lady Van Burgien was known for being critical. She hated laziness above all.

As she entered the drawing room, she saw that Lady Van Burgien was sitting on one of the four chairs outside, facing her. She was sipping her tea delicately and appeared to be having a good time. From where Massie stood, she saw that the regal aunt of the Prince of Germany was wearing a beautiful wine-colored walking dress with a matching bonnet. Her walking stick which was also fashionably made just for her, was leaning against her chair.

But that was not the reason why Massie's hand which was reaching for the doorknob froze mid-reach. When she heard the other guest's voice, she stiffened.

Slowly, she turned around to face Trevor who was standing less than calmly a few feet behind her. "You said _guests_, Trevor?" She asked in a frighteningly low voice.

The poor butler nodded. "Yes, Your Grace."

_Keep you temper at bay, Massie_, she thought. "Did you happen to forget, perchance, to inform me that the other guest is my husband?" she whispered furiously at him.

Trevor flinched at her tone. "I assumed you invited him, Your Grace, since the duke said you have extended your invitation to him just this morning." He innocently answered her question.

"Just this morning I was trying to punch him but got my fist injured instead!" She was fuming now. How dare her husband? How dare he do this and deliberately ruin her day?

Trevor cleared his throat. "I apologize for assuming incorrectly, Your Grace, but Lady Van Burgien is trying to catch your attention as we speak."

Massie begged her temper to cool down. At least, for now. She took a few calming breaths before turning her back at Trevor, opened the double doors and joined her guests.

"Now here she is." Lady Van Burgien said with a smile. "We were wondering where you have been, child."

While she was speaking, Devil's Incarnate stood up quite lithely from his chair to stand in front of her. "Darling! Cecil and I have been worried about you." He embraced her as if the past three years did not happen and she did not try to physically hurt him this morning.

"You don't get rid of me that easily, _ma chérie_." He whispered softly to her ear so that their other guest would not hear.

Massie stiffened and looked up to his eyes. There was that mischievous glint in them which flooded Massie's mind with suspicion and caution. Since his body obstructed her other guest of her view, Lady Van Burgien did not see the murderous glare Massie gave her husband.

The smile on Derrick's lips broadened. His finger touched Massie's bottom lip – which increased Massie's caution and guard. "Now, now, darling, smile. We don't want to have our guest thinking we're having a lovers' quarrel, now, do we?" He mocked in a low voice.

She glared at him.

From where the Honorable aunt of the Prince of Germany was sitting with her delicately sipping her aromatic tea, she could see why they made such a striking couple. Germany was not that far away from London when it came to gossip and since she knew every bit of whatever it is to know, she was well aware of the gossips that ran around the couple. She knew that the Duke left his wife to sail the seas a few years ago and she also knew that the child had been miserable when he left. She even heard there was a babe that was involved but that bit had not been proven to be true. The gist of it all was that the Duchess of Redvers was very much in love with her husband when said husband abandoned her for the next years – years which Massie spent strengthening herself and growing into a woman who could fit in well in a man's world.

Thinking that they were ignoring her far too long, Cecile cleared her throat.

Massie and Derrick were still locked in a glaring game when Cecile caught their attention. Massie visibly jumped at the sound while Derrick merely stepped aside.

"Oh, I think we've been terribly rude to Cecile, my dear." Derrick said in such a charming tone that Massie wanted to strangle him. "We apologize for the rudeness, my lady."

Cecile smiled at his gallantry. "No need to apologize, dear. Now, have your wife to sit down, Derrick, so we can start discussing about the hospital."

Derrick nodded with a smile, offered his arm to Massie who was still silently fuming, giving her no chance to refuse since they had company. She withdrew back to her mask of composure, placed her hand on Derrick's arm and allowed him to sit her down the only vacant chair.

And so their discussion went on. Massie all but ignored Derrick while she and Cecile talked about the hospitals that would be put up in the Prince of Germany's estates yet her ignorance did not faze Derrick. He knew she was aware of him, all right. So it did not matter to Derrick that she barely glanced or spoke to him. He drank his brandy languidly and relaxed on the chair, listening with only a quarter of interest at the women's discussion. The rest of his awareness was busy studying Massie.

She had not bothered to change her dress. She was still wearing the green walking gown he saw her in earlier in the docks. Now that he wasn't busy waylaying her attempts of hitting him, he allowed himself to look at her from head to toe. Her hair still looked as soft as it had before, though it grew longer and there was the presence of soft waves. He wondered if it still felt as soft as it looked. Her eyes – well nothing new there. It was still a magnificent shade of amber. Her nose was still straight and as perfect. Her mouth seemed fuller and more luscious. _She _was more luscious and… voluptuous.

But there was something else, Derrick thought as he took an elegant sip from his glass. Something different about her. Not just physical, but something that goes deeper.

His attention got caught when he heard Cecile mention something about the launching of Massie's museum.

"It's really good of you to fund a museum for aspiring painters and artists, Massie. I heard that you also sent some young artists to Art School for proper education and that some of them have their works exhibited in that museum of yours. What would they have done if you did not organize charities for young artists who lacked financially." Cecile said.

"I believe that everyone is blessed with skills and they should be shown and flaunted in public. I also believe that poverty is not a hindrance to reaching your dreams, my lady. These children who I sent to school and gave a chance to exhibit their works already had the talent for excellence and a dream to succeed and become famous for what they are good at. I merely introduced them to some friends from universities here and abroad. The rest of their success is because of their talents, my lady." Massie explained.

Cecile chuckled. "You are such a humble person, Massie." She reached out and patted Massie's hand which was folded on her lap. "The world is lucky to have such good-hearted child like you who devotes herself in helping others and not expecting anything in return." Cecile turned to look at Derrick. "Don't you think so, Derrick?"

Derrick had been following the conversation but he contemplated what Massie had said. There was something in her tone and the expression on her face that piqued his interest and wonder. So when Cecile suddenly asked him that question, he merely looked at her once, trying to remember what they were saying. "Oh, yes." He said, suddenly remembering. "I'm in complete agreement with you, Cecile." Then his eyes met Massie's and held hers.

Massie looked away, a faint blush creeping to her cheeks.

Cecile nodded, clearly satisfied that he thought so, and turned back to Massie. "See? Even your husband thinks so. Now, dear, about that museum opening of yours later…" Lady Van Burgien went on asking Massie questions about the museum and the guests who will be present later.

Massie listened and answered diligently but her heart was beating inside her chest. The look that Derrick had given her when he said that he agreed with Lady Van Burgien showed an emotion which she hadn't seen in his eyes before. She could not pinpoint what it was but it seemed softer. She glanced at Derrick.

Her heart skipped a beat.

He was staring at her with an unfathomable expression. It was as if he was looking directly at her soul. His eyes that had always beguiled her searched and probed, looking for a loophole. Instantly, she panicked. She could not let him see past her cool exterior. She could not let him tear down the walls she had built to protect herself. Not again. Not ever.

She thanked God that Lady Van Burgien had launched into another of her many tales so she did not have to say anything unless she stopped and asked for an opinion which would take awhile, Massie was sure of it. So she was safe to know that Lady Van Burgien wasn't aware how preoccupied she suddenly was. And how tight she was gripping her hands.

Derrick was aware of that, though, which was why he suddenly raised a questioning brow.

"Massie? Child, are you all right?"

Cecile's concerned voice jarred her out of the turmoil that was happening inside her. Massie turned to Cecile and saw how worried the other woman looked.

"I apologize, my lady. I seemed to have drifted." She said, trying to calm down her heartbeat. She cleared her throat. "What was it you were saying?"

But apparently, Lady Van Burgien was not done with her fussing. "You look terribly pale. Doesn't she, Derrick?"

Derrick who was studying her so closely nodded though he masked his concern. "Yes. Are you feeling ill, darling? Should I send for a doctor?"

Massie's eyes snapped back to him. "Um, no. I, um, it's probably because of exhaustion and I haven't eaten anything."

"You should bring her to bed and call for a doctor, Derrick." Cecile told Derrick.

"Yes, I think I should." Derrick started to stand up but Massie immediately stood up.

"No!" She said, a bit too loudly.

Both looked at her as if she were going crazy.

"I mean, thank you for the concern, my lady, and thank you for the offer, Your Grace," she told Derrick, "but I'm fine. Though, if you both won't mind, I'll leave you first to lie down and get some rest before the museum opening tonight. Will it be okay, my lady?"

Cecile was already nodding before she had finished. "Why, oh, yes! You should get some rest. Believe me, we all do. I think I'll also head out after I finish this cup of tea. Oh, you don't have to see me out. Derrick will do that for you. Now, go up and have your rest."

More than thankful for Cecile's understanding, it took her extreme restraint to keep herself from bolting and running upstairs to her bedroom.

"Thank you for coming over." She told Cecile and kissed both of her cheeks before she stopped in front of Derrick and with a polite smile, she said, "It's been a wonderful afternoon."

Derrick nodded. "And understatement, darling." Derrick's hand reached out and grasped hers.

Alarm shot up in Massie's eyes. She did not dare pull her hand away because Lady Van Burgien was looking at them, though. So she kept her cool as she watched Derrick raise her hand to his lips and brushed it against his mouth lightly.

Derrick held her hand longer. His eyes searching for hers. The look in them was possessive and determined. It unnerved Massie. When he did release her, she pulled her hand to her chest and with one last farewell, she all but ran to her bedroom upstairs.

_Hmm, interesting_, Cecile Van Burgien thought as she, feigning indifference, watched the heated exchange of looks between the handsome duke and his beautiful duchess. She also took note of how tight and intimate the duke held the duchess's hand. Massie's hurried and unsuccessfully restrained escape did not also miss the Honorable Lady's keen eyes and her amusement.

_Really interesting_, she thought again. She was looking forward to seeing more of their… romance.

She leaned back and relaxed, sipping delicately from her tea, thinking that she made the right decision coming to London for the Season, at all.

**I'm sorry if it was too long. It's almost 6,000 words long. But I really enjoyed writing that I forgot how long it was already. Anyway, I hope you liked it. :)**

**Notes for Chapter 8:**

**1) **_**colère**_**– French for "wrath"**

**2) **_**queer as Dick's hatband **_**– 18****th**** and 19****th**** century slang phrase for "out of sorts"**

**3) **_**discours – **_**French for "speech"**

**4) **_**seraglio **_**– 18****th**** and 19****th**** century slang for a "prostitution house"**

**5) **_**all-a-gog **_**– 18****th**** and 19****th**** century slang for "being impatient"**

**6) **_**mademoiselle **_**– French for "Miss"**

**7) **_**mon amour**_** – French for "my friend"**

**8) **_**luxuriant **_**– French for "luxurious"**

**9) It is more popular during the Regency Era to use the title of the person as a form of addressing him. Especially among those who are close to him. Ex. Duke of Redvers – they call him "Redvers" and closest to him reduce it to "Red". From my research, I have deducted that only men are addressed as such. **

**10) If you remember, I mentioned in Chapter 6 that Harriet has been nicknamed as the "Amazon Cherry". Most of her friends – especially those who she is intimate with – call her "Cher". **

**11) **_**mon ami **_**– French for "my friend"**

**If there are things that any of you is not clear with, just include it in your reviews or PM me. :)**

**Again, reviews feed the author's enthusiasm in updating faster. So, review. :D**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

White Rose Hall was nestled at the heart of London Main Street. It was first built back in the 1600s for the royal family but was abandoned a century later. It was the first time in centuries that the Hall was once again packed with people – mostly with members of the _ton_ – and its driveway filled with carriages of arriving guests.

Inside, the atmosphere was jovial. The dance floor was vacated by couples, dancing to the melody provided by the orchestra hired for the event. Men and women were socializing at the sides, watching the couples dance. Business, fashion and gossip were swarming amidst the joyous crowd gathered inside the ballroom. The debut of the Duchess of Redvers's museum was a success, so far, and her duchess's beau's appearance contributed to it. Though by the looks of it, he was not up to socializing tonight.

Standing afar, alone in his casual stance, looking bored and uninterested, Derrick Harrington watched the crowd mingle as he drank languidly from his glass of champagne. Every woman – married or unattached – who attended the function had their eyes only for him. Throughout the night, almost every female in attendance threw themselves at him, vying for his attention. Among these women was the Countess of Groveland.

Alicia had only arrived back in London this morning from a three-month long vacation in Paris when she heard from her lady's maid of her former lover's arrival. And from what she had learned, Derrick had no plan on leaving London again. So she used the rest of her day, devising on how she could get Derrick back to her bed. She knew that Derrick had left because he hated his wife so much. Alicia had been gloating when she heard of this gossip back then. She knew from the beginning when it was announced that the Duke of Redvers and the Lady Massie Block were to be married that such marriage would not last, especially with a skilled Lothario such as Derrick Harrington who did not and would never need a wife.

And with this knowledge, Alicia was confident that once they would meet, Derrick would be hers again.

Excusing herself from Lady Hamilton and Lord Ferguson, Alicia looked for Derrick in the crowd and when she found him, standing strikingly across her, she checked her brazen cherry-colored evening dress which hugged her curves and pushed up her bosom. Knowing more than well that she looked like Venus, Alicia sashayed her way to her former lover.

"Your Grace." She politely greeted with a curtsy when she reached him.

Derrick cocked her head to the side in acknowledgement. "Countess."

She stepped closer to him and looked up into his eyes. "I only heard about your arrival this morning when I came back from Paris." She told him. "If I knew that you would be coming back, I would have returned soon so we could… relish the old times." She stood on her tiptoes and whispered at his ear seductively. "Henry is still in Paris and will return tomorrow evening. You can come to my house after this and I'll give you a proper welcome back." She pulled away and gave him an alluring smile.

Derrick had spent the night looking for Massie and from his observation, he found out that she had not arrived yet. Ironic that the lady of the event was late. He had decided to go and search for her when Alicia, the woman from hell, approached him. He thought of escaping but knew that would only attract suspicion from other people. He was well-aware of the fact that everyone in the beau monde was eyeing him with a cautious and suspicious eye as if his presence in his own wife's museum's debut was strange.

He was only half-listening to Alicia's wantonness when he caught sight of magnificent auburn hair by the entrance of the ballroom. Remembering that Alicia was waiting for his reply, Derrick turned to look at her. "I'm afraid I'm busy tonight, darling. Perhaps some other time." _When hell freezes,_ he added silently. Ignoring the look of shock and indignation on Alicia's face, Derrick gave her one last polite smile, bowed, and headed to where he fleetingly caught sight of Massie.

He spotted her talking with the Prince Regent not ten steps away from him. He stopped, waiting for her to finish her conversation with the Prince Regent whom he was, unfortunately, also familiar with when, as if she sensed his gaze, she suddenly turned around and faced him.

_Sweet baby Jesus_, Derrick thought. A tightness in his chest made him realize he'd quit breathing.

She looked absolutely… beautiful. Exquisite. Words could not explain how she looked. She was dressed in a silver and white gown that shimmered in the light when she moved. The cut wasn't overly revealing, but there was still a hint of flesh visible at the top of her neckline.

Her hair was pinned up with a thin white ribbon threaded through her curls. Wisps of hair curled at the base of her neck.

She looked breathtakingly beautiful. Every nerve in Derrick's body reacted to the sight of her. He wanted to take her into his arms, kiss her, taste her…

"Well, if it isn't the infamous Derrick Harrington!" He was jarred out of his lust-crazed thoughts when the Prince of Regent pounded him on the back. "You damn scoundrel, where have you been all these years?" He cheerfully joked.

He hadn't realized that he had walked and stood himself in front of Massie until then. The Prince of Regent, known as Prinny to those who are closest to him, was now standing beside him.

Derrick noted that Massie was frowning but was trying not to show it. He turned to look at her and their eyes met. He saw irritation, surprise and confusion in those amber orbs. God, those eyes were still beautiful. He still found himself drowning in the depth of those. He suppressed the impulse to pull her into his arms and carry her through the cool night.

_What's with him?_ Massie thought as she studied Derrick. He was staring at her so strangely. As if he was trying to read her thoughts. And there was something else there though. Softness? Warmth? It was driving her crazy. The thought that Derrick was trying to weave his way back into her life had occurred to her while she was lying on her bed, staring at the canopy above, a few hours ago. But she dismissed the ludicrous thoughts. He probably had found a new lover or reconnected with his previous ones – God knows how many they are – since he came back. He was probably messing with her, trying to ruin her life again. Or maybe he was devising a plan so _he _could get her tangled in his web again.

But, God Almighty, he looked dangerously handsome in all black. His hair was tidied but still seemed untamed, a reflection of his appearance as a whole.

All these thoughts entered Massie's mind as she stared back at Derrick.

The Prince Regent was regarding the two with keen interest. Both seemed like they were unaware of him. They were busy looking at each other's eyes, trying to decipher what was going on in the other's mind. He cleared his throat. "I see that my presence is not needed here. I think it best to leave you two to yourselves for now." He waited for the two to acknowledge him but they continued looking at each other.

Prinny shook his head, chuckling as he moved on to another group. "Young love." He murmured to himself, glancing back again at the couple who remained still and quiet even as many of the guests were watching them now.

The Prince of Regent shook his head again to himself.

"What are you doing here?" Massie whispered furiously at Derrick.

They haven't moved from where they were nor did they break the contact of their eyes.

Derrick's lips curved upwards. "What do you mean what am I doing here?" He innocently asked. "It's my wife's museum's premiere. Of course, I should be present."

Massie stifled the urge to yell at him and tell him that he wasn't even present when she had lost their first born. She took a calming breath. She sighed and turned her back at him. "What do you want from me?" She asked, sounding resigned.

Derrick frowned at her tone but he refused to be budged by it. He took a step closer to her, her back was now a mere inch from his chest, and leaned closer to her ear. "A dance. That's all I want, Massie. Dance with me." He added the last one with a coaxing velvetiness she felt coursing through her veins.

A new song was playing. The dance had shifted to waltz, the type of dance, though already approved by the Prince Regent, still frowned upon by the older women, including the Patronesses of the _ton_. Massie thought of his offer for awhile. One dance would not hurt, she guessed. Her shoulders slumped and she nodded. "One dance. But only one." She said without turning around.

Behind her, Derrick smiled. A minor triumph, he thought.

Slowly, he took her hand in his. Both of them felt the electricity that such innocent gesture elicited. They stopped and turned to glance at each other, wondering if the other felt it, too. The affirmation was written crystal clear in their eyes. Without breaking contact with her eyes, he led her to the center of the dance floor, vaguely aware that the crowd had gone silent, the dance floor deserted and everyone, including the musicians, stopped what they were doing and attentively watched them.

Twirling her once and pulling her to the warmth his arms offered, he held her right hand securely in his while his other hand wrapped itself around her slender waist. Massie placed her hand on his shoulder but refused to look at him. The music restarted and a gentle melody flowed through the ballroom.

And Derrick circled them around the dance floor.

How many times had Massie dreamed of this? Being held in Derrick's arms so securely? Of feeling comfort? And, hopefully, love? Countless.

She had always felt that being in his arms was the best communication she had with him. That whenever he held her, all the problems in the world would go away. If only the circumstances were different. If only he loved her as much she loved him. If only the past four years had not happened. If only…

Those were merely _if only_s. They weren't reality. Reality was that he did not love her. Reality was that he left her in the past four years without thinking or caring enough about her to come back and stay with her. Reality was he had found her not woman enough for him. Reality was he had hurt her so much.

But it was also reality that he came back. And that he was paying her more attention than he did in the past. It was also reality that he was different. Probably more mature. It was also reality that whenever he looked at her, there was an unfamiliar softness, an apprehension of sorts, in his eyes.

Reality was that if she did not put up her walls again, she would be falling back into his web.

That realization caught her off guard that she stumbled and missed a step.

Good thing that Derrick was there to catch her and covered her miss with a fluid twirl.

If only he could do that to her in a different sense.

Derrick was also battling his own set of mystifying emotions. From afar, her beauty was staggering. Only angels from heaven should be blessed with such magnificence. But from a closer view, she was more exquisite. As if such a thing was possible. But it truly was! Her skin was so flawless and clear. Her eyes so pure and sincere. Her lips so full and enticing. God, she was so beautiful that it hurt!

But her physical beauty was not the only thing that took his breath away. Her grace, her natural regal bearing fit for a queen, her compassion for others, her passionate nature. Everything about her gripped him. She was so unlike the women he was familiar to. Everything she did, every word that came out of her mouth, rooted from and ringed with sincerity and truth. She was perfect in more than one way.

Whenever he was near her, whenever he thought of her, there was this unfamiliar sensation that clutched his heart and made him want to cry out. It stunned him, realizing this. He knew he was attracted to her. She was breathtakingly beautiful and sexy, who wouldn't be attracted to her? But a strange feeling made him realize that he wasn't simply attracted to her physical attributes. He was attracted to _her_. As a whole.

He stiffened at the realization. He was suddenly aware that she had also tensed.

"Everyone is looking at us." Massie whispered, just to ease some of the tension not just between them but also around them.

Derrick swept his gaze around the room, noting of its silence and the growing anticipation of the onlookers. He spotted Alicia, clutching her wine glass in a steel-like grip while glaring at them, and the Prince Regent who caught his eye and winked approvingly at him. Everyone seemed captivated by the sight he and Massie made.

Derrick returned his focus to Massie who lowered her eyes to his cravat and was blushing at the intense scrutiny of the guests. "You still blush." Derrick heard the surprise in his tone.

Massie suddenly looked up at him. "Yes. Does that surprise you?" She sounded like she was challenging him.

Derrick laughed, a rich and familiar sound that caused her stomach to do somersaults, and scanned the room casually. "I didn't mean it as an insult, Massie. It's a rarity nowadays to find women who still blush in this world of sophistication and pretenses. Women nowadays think and act as how they think men would be attracted to. They think blushing is too immature and reflects innocence and gullibility. I think a woman's blush speaks of honesty. For me, it shows how she values her own desires, not others." Then he looked down at her. "Don't you think so, Massie?" He asked in a low, intimate voice, waiting for her to meet his eyes.

She was looking at his cravat while he expressed his views but when he took _that_ note, memories of their explosive lovemakings flooded through her mind and made her shiver in response. Massie gazed up, curious, and met his eyes. There was that unfamiliar expression again in his dark eyes. It tingled her insides. She could not – simply could not fall in love with him again! God knows when he'll disappear again! She can't imagine going through the penetrating pain that came with loving him. It shattered her life once, she could not let it ruin what she had worked for over the years. She simply cannot allow it.

She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath as if in defeat. "What exactly do you want from me, Derrick?" Ever since he came back, not once did she utter his Christian name. It was always "Redvers", said in a stern voice. He'd been waiting – anticipating, more likely – for her to call him _Derrick _again. He loved the way she said it even before. But, now, when she finally spoke his given name, there was desperation in the way she said the words. As if she was begging him to leave her alone.

Derrick inwardly frowned. "A dance. I simply want to dance with you." He lied. Well, partly, he did.

She narrowed her eyes at him and continued to scrutinize him. "Do you want to take back the townhouse? Is that what all this charade about? You want me to leave your townhouse?"

He let his frown show this time. "I'm not taking back the townhouse, Massie. And this is not a _charade_, as you might think it is. I missed my wife. Is there something wrong with that?" His voice took a harder tone, his grip on her waist tightening.

Massie winced. "You're crushing me." She complained.

Immediately, he lessened the pressure on her waist.

Massie took a deep breath. "Then what? I'm tired trying to figure you out."

He pressed her closer to him and bent forward, though their steps did not falter. Their faces were mere inches from each other. They studied each other for a few seconds. It was Derrick who broke the tension-filled silence.

"_Tu me manques, ma femme __chérie_." He began in a velvet tone. "I want to get to know you because apparently a lot has changed since I left. I know it would take you time to forgive me for what I've said and done to you before I left. I was unfair. But I truly want to spend more time with you now that I'm back. If only you'll let me." His voice, because of the silence in the ballroom, carried on to the spectators nearest to them.

The crowd was undeniably mesmerized by the sight of the Duke and Duchess of Redvers, so close and perfect together. Apollo and Aphrodite. Greek god and goddess. Their beauty so stark and dazzling that they added to the grandeur of the ballroom. Dark and light. Yin and yang. Hard and soft. They were perfect for each other. As if the heavens created them simply for each other. The crowd watched as Derrick slowed their step and bent a little towards Massie. Every man and woman in attendance held their breath in anticipation.

As Derrick made his declaration, Massie's heart skipped a beat. She felt warm all over. She licked her lips which were suddenly dry. She noticed Derrick follow the movement of her tongue and something dark clouded his eyes. She was about to say something when he suddenly spoke.

"God, you're so beautiful." Huskily.

Massie closed her eyes, fighting off the tears that threatened to pour down. She glanced away from his dark heated gaze and scanned the crowd, albeit she wasn't actually seeing them. All she wanted was for the bloody dance to end.

As if the gods above was listening to her frantic plea, the music broke off and ended in perfect symphony. Derrick twirled them around before they stopped and stood, facing each other. He took a step back, still holding her hand, and bowed low to her, completing the custom. Then he looked up at her, slowly as if testing, raised her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the sensitive spot near her wrist.

He robbed her senses once again with that one brief kiss on her wrist. Massie sucked in a breath, closing her eyes, knowing that _that_ simple kiss would haunt her day and most especially, at night.

The crowd broke away from the trance and exploded into applauses. Massie controlled the turmoil of emotions in her and smiled gratefully to the crowd when Derrick turned them to face the appreciative mob. She saw at the corner of her eye the Prince Regent beckoning them. Derrick, his hand still closed around Massie's tiny fist, pulled her along to where Prinny was.

"That was… beyond words!" Prinny laughed, clearly delighted and entertained. "You two, you're a dynamic couple! Splendid! Just splendid! Don't you think so, Feline?" He turned to Lady Gilleroy of Crowhurst who was standing right beside him.

And who also knew Derrick in a personal, more intimate nature. "Yes. I do believe it was… stimulating." She said, her smile too sweet to be honest. "But the Duke of Redvers has always proved to be… as equally invigorating." The innuendo, so stark and transparent for anyone to recognize, rang vociferously in Massie's ears. Then the shameless Lady Gilleroy shifted her reptilian eyes wholly on Massie and gifted her with an ersatz grin. "You must be so ecstatic to have him back, dear."

Massie wanted to roll her eyes but she settled with a gracious smile. "Oh, yes, of course, Lady Gilleroy." She extracted her hand from Derrick's grip and placed it on his arm. She turned to gaze at Derrick who looked back at her with a smile, albeit his eyes were questioning. "We're as happy as we can be."

Derrick nodded, keeping his smile in place. "Yes, I'd have to agree with my wife." He told their _friends_. "Coming back has been nothing but blissful."

The Prince Regent chuckled. "Ah, yes. I think I know what you mean by that, my friend." And the topic changed from there.

While Prinny engaged Derrick in an animated conversation about the new Thoroughbreds being held in auction at Newmarket and at the same time, Lord Deverell who just joined their small group tried to talked him into joining their archery competition in Wales at the end of the month, Massie seized his moment of preoccupation and surreptitiously left his side.

As much as Massie wanted to find a spot where Derrick would least likely find her – if ever he would look for her, her plans were sabotaged by a group of eager gentlemen who had been keeping a watchful eye at her and were now vying for her undivided attention. It did not matter if she was married or not because it appeared like the gentlemen who flocked around her overlooked that utterly significant matter. They all gave her the impression that they treated the situation – competing for her focus – as a game wherein she was the ultimate prize. They tried to interest her with praises, conversations about gossip and fashion, and not one of them interested her.

As if her mind really wandered out of "Derrick Harrington borderline".

She inwardly sighed, wishing for any miracle that would come and save her from the attacking herd of stags.

"Darling, there you are." A deep, definitely male voice sounded from behind her followed by a familiar warm hand snaking its way around Massie's waist. Possessively. She did not have to glance beside her to know it was Derrick who had come to save her from the licentious predators of the haute ton. She could feel the disturbing intensity of Derrick's eyes on her so she turned to look up at him, meeting his gaze. "I've been looking everywhere for you." Though his smile told him that he wasn't that gullible and knew she had tried to escape from him.

She smiled back, also falsely but it fooled everyone else. "Oh, yes. I was just talking to these wonderful gentlemen."

Again, he wasn't fooled. He had been watching her ever since she left his side and knew that she all but endured the torture and immense attention she was getting from the gentlemen. The sight – his wife being bombarded by snakes such as Lord Paignton who had more paramours than Henry VII himself – fueled him with emotions that he now recognized as jealousy. He felt a powerful string of possessiveness towards her and the need to protect her from the Lord Paigntons of the world.

It ironically slipped his mind that he himself was a Lord Paignton. Though his record would put Paignton's to dire position.

Derrick turned to the gentlemen. "Thank you for entertaining my wife while I was otherwise engaged, gentlemen." He told them, his voice although amicable but his eyes held a hard threatening glint that the gentlemen understood well enough. "But I believe I could take over from here on. And in future, I would appreciate it if you would pay less zeal towards my wife because it would surely upset me." In translation, if I see any of you talking to my wife again, I'll have your head before you can say "son of a bitch".

They need not be told twice. Bobbing their heads and bidding the couple a hasty goodbye, the fellows scurried off to get away from Derrick's glare.

When they were long gone, Derrick let out a low growl. "Damn scoundrels. Can't they see you're a married woman?" He murmured furiously as they stood, watching the crowd mingle, his hand still on her waist.

If Massie were in a better mood, she would have laughed out loud at the irony of what he said. "As if that had ever stopped you." She murmured back to him. Her tone held no emotion, just blank and cold.

Stunned at her statement, Derrick crooked his head to face her. Her face gave away nothing. A line creased his forehead. He did not comment on what she said because he knew it was unequivocal truth. He had dallied with married women – numerous of them – before. But that was before. Ever since he came back – though it had only been two days – he hadn't slept with any woman. His thoughts were centered on her. Only her.

But saying that – with her stubbornness and all that had happened – would be like saying it to a wall. He'd get the same reaction, he reckoned.

And that aggravated him, knowing that it was only on St. George's Day that Massie would relent and hear him out. He sighed.

The hand on Massie's waist tightened. Shocked, Massie turned to him with wide eyes. "Unhand me." She whispered to him, her voice livid.

Derrick stared at her hardly. "Not before we talk."

"We're talking now." She stubbornly said.

Derrick smiled mockingly at her. "Not that kind of talk, Massie. I mean, we have to talk. About us."

Massie glanced away from him and closed her eyes for a moment, clearly debating her options. After a few heartbeats, she opened her eyes and with a look of defeat, she nodded.

Inwardly smiling at his small victory, Derrick scanned the ballroom, wondering where he could find a private place so they could talk without being interrupted. He vaguely remembered seeing an alcove outside the entrance of the ballroom. Releasing her waist from his hold, he grasped her hand. "Follow me." He told her and led her to the entrance door.

Yet they hadn't gotten as far as ten steps when their path were suddenly blocked by the Countess of Groveland and Captain Cameron Fisher, now Marquis of St. James.

"Red!" Cameron greeted and pounded Derrick on the back. "Glad to have you back, my friend."

Even if Derrick wanted to talk to Massie privately, Cameron was one of his closest friends since childhood. He couldn't deny the opportunity to converse with him. "Cam! Or should I say, St. James?"

Cameron waved his hand dismissively. "I'm still getting used to people addressing me as 'my lord' or St. James. Years of being on the battlefield, always thirsting for blood, then I come back to the _ton_ as the Marquis of St. James, expected to be impeccable and refined." Cam scoffed. "Refined, my ass."

Derrick chuckled, shaking his head. "You were always the whiner in our group."

"I fear they have forgotten us, ladies, my dear." Alicia told Massie who was standing beside Derrick, motionlessly and soundlessly. But, of course, her intention was to draw the men's attention to them. More specifically, to her.

Both gentlemen turned to them, looking apologetic. "Our deepest apologies, ladies." Cam said. "It's been awhile since me and this bloody bastard have seen each other. I hope you'll excuse us our rudeness."

Alicia chuckled, a flirting sound that brought goosebumps on Massie's arms. "It's quite all right. We understand, don't we, Massie?" She glanced at Massie, her smile sweetly cat-like.

Massie did not smile but simply nodded. "Yes, we understand." She barely glanced at Cam and it still irritated her to stand and converse with Alicia and Cam because she could never forget that day four years ago when they visited her and Derrick a few weeks after their wedding. They had looked down on her as if she were a chambermaid, not their best friend's wife.

Now, she did not bother with pleasantries. She wished they would feel as neglected and scorned as how she did before.

She could feel Derrick's searching gaze on her but she continued to scan the crowd with a jaded expression as if their conversation bored her to tears. He was about to excuse themselves when Alicia turned to him. "Red, do you remember that summer at your country house when we were 10?"

The expression on Derrick's face was animated as Massie's gaze passed him. "Yes! I would never forget your face when we crossed the lake and your new dress was soaked."

Both of them laughed and were suddenly engaged on a trip down memory lane, momentarily forgetting Cameron and Massie which allowed the Marquis of St. James to openly stare at Derrick's interesting wife.

_Interesting, indeed_, he thought with a smile as he studied Massie with lascivious eyes.

He had been late in coming to the event because he had to deal with a few matters at his townhouse. When he'd entered the ballroom, he'd been at first shocked at how silent the large place was. Then he'd heard the music and caught movement at the dance floor. He'd move into the crowd so he could get a better view of what caused the _ton _to complete and awed silence.

And then he'd seen them.

He'd recognized Derrick as soon as he spotted him. What he hadn't recognized was the lady who he was dancing so passionately with.

She was so beautiful! Her beauty was inhuman as if she was an angel who came down from heaven to tease mere mortals such as him. Oh, he was teased all right. He'd felt his loins react at the sight of her.

He'd turned to the person, standing beside him. Lord Arbry, he'd recognized. "Arbry, who is that lady Redvers is dancing with?"

Lord Arbry had blinked at first, uncomprehending. Cam had glanced at him and had repeated his question until the man shook himself out of the trance everyone was under. "Why, it's His Grace's duchess, of course, boy." And then he shot him an apologetic glance. "I mean, my lord."

Cam had nodded at him and returned his attention to Derrick's wife.

And he kept it at her all throughout the evening.

Now, standing before her, Cam cleared his throat, drawing her attention to him. "I daresay I must congratulate you, Your Grace, for such a constructive endeavor. By the looks of it and the support the _ton _has extended to you, it is already efficacious." He generously complimented her, adding a charming smile.

Massie smiled back at him. "Thank you, Captain – I mean, my lord." She laughed a little at her slip. "Pardon me but I still can't get used to _my lord_ing you."

Cam chuckled understandingly. "No need to apologize. I get that all the time. And by the way, call me Cam. After all, Derrick is one of my closest friends and you're his wife. I do believe that makes us friends, too."

If he thought she had already forgotten their haunting visit four years ago, he thought wrong. But Massie only nodded, keeping her smile on her face. "Then you must call me Massie, my lord. Cam." She corrected herself.

Cam, thinking that he had already won her amity, moved closer to her but still of respectful distance. "I must admit, Massie, you look…" He cast her a once-over that bothered Massie more than his proximity. "quite different than you have before."

Massie could have laughed at his face but she held back the urge to do so. "Thank you, my lord. Maybe it's the fluorescence here in the ballroom."

Cam frowned a bit. "Hm." Was all he said.

"I see you have all reunited behind my back. I daresay I feel hurt." A familiar voice sounded from behind them.

All four turned to find who dared to interrupt them in such a disrespectful manner.

Then for the first time since the beginning of the evening, Massie's lips curved into a genuine smile which turned men's hearts to melted organs.

"Josh!"

* * *

**I can say that this is my favorite chapter, so far. Haha. I love the scene were they waltzed. There was so much tension in the air. ;)**

**A lot of you said in your reviews that you wanted Josh to reappear and so, since I am a very obedient writer, I've brought him back to our story. And to **_**pansy25**_** who suggested that Cam and Alicia should be at the ball because it would be nice to see their reaction to the new Massie since they belittled her so much in the past, thank you for that suggestion, my friend! Your review gave me an idea on how to thicken the plot. Haha.**

**So, my other readers and reviewers, if you have any suggestion – any at all – please don't hesitate to tell me in your reviews and I'll try my best to accommodate them. :D**

**Include your thoughts on this chapter in your reviews please. Thank you! :)**

**FYI, this chapter has 6,600 words. Haha. **

**Notes for Chapter 9:**

**1) I know I've mentioned the **_**ton**_** in the previous chapters and I realized that I haven't explained what it is. So, for those who don't have an idea what the **_**ton**_** is, here goes. The **_**ton **_**or **_**le bon ton**_** is**** a term commonly used to refer to Britain's high society during the Georgian era, especially the Regency and reign of George IV. It comes from the French word meaning "taste" or "everything that is fashionable" and is pronounced the same way as tone. The full phrase is le bon ton, meaning good manners or "in the fashionable mode" – characteristics held as ideal by the British ton. The terms Beau Monde (French for "beautiful world") and polite society have been interchangeable with le bon ton during different periods. Ton has also been used as an interchangeable term with the Upper Ten Thousand of later 19th century society, including most of the peerage, aristocracy and the wealthy merchants or bankers of the City (London). Ton society was intensely class-conscious and the social hierarchy was incredibly rigid. Birth, wealth, titles, and other factors determined class standing. **

**Members of the ton came from the aristocracy, the gentry, and of course, royalty and monarch(s). Though some wealthier members of the middle classes might possibly have married into the lower ranks of the gentry, such unions would not have been completely accepted by the elite ton. Social positions could be altered or determined by income, houses, speech, clothing, or even manners. Climbing the social ladder could take generations, particularly into the aristocracy who did not readily accept those of inferior birth into their ranks. **

**Fashion, etiquette, manners, social customs, and many other aspects of social life were all dictated by the ton. The conventions of ton life were highly structured and complex, and difficult for anyone born outside of the highest circles to fully understand. Social acceptance was crucial and based primarily, but not exclusively, on birth and family. Acceptable social behaviors were different for men and women; these behaviors were based on an intricate system. Some of these behaviors were flexible — they adapted slightly with the fashions of each season, but they always reflected the current modes of manners, fashion, and propriety.**

**2) There's no such thing as White Hall. I only made it up. So please don't get confused.**

**3) ****The waltz was considered somewhat shocking because of the contact maintained between the partners when it was introduced in England, but it soon became quite popular.**

**4) George, Prince of Wales, (often referred to as Prinny) was the eldest son of George III, and was named Prince Regent when his father became too mentally unstable to rule. His regency, 1811-1820, gives name to the period. He reigned as George IV from 1820 to 1830. Both his regency and his monarchy were marked by fiscal extravagance. His education and taste served to label him one of the most accomplished men of his age, yet his self-indulgence was seen as a waste of his talents. Overweight, overdressed, and oversexed, he was not popular with his subjects. His cultural achievements, however, cannot be denied. No other member of the Royal Family has ever been such a staunch supporter of art, architecture, music, and science. His many legacies include Regent's Park and the National Portrait Gallery. Upon his death, the ****Duke of Wellington**** said that George IV had been "the most extraordinary compound of talent, wit, buffoonery, obstinacy, and good feeling - in short a medley of the most opposite qualities, with a great preponderance of good - that I ever saw in any character in my life." The Prince Regent is also known to his contemporaries as Prinny.**

**5) The Regency era is remembered as a time where low morals and dissipation were cocooned within the weave of a rigid social code and high culture. During this time upper class society often judged another man's worth by not only his title and linage, but also by the shine of his Hessian boots, the cut of his clothes, the quality of his horses, and how fast he could drive a carriage. Well-bred men and women enhanced their political or economic situations by advantageous marriages acquired through a London season, or what was more popularly referred to as "the marriage mart." A marriageable young lady had to carefully mind her behavior and bone up her social graces lest any of the great society matrons term her "fast," and therefore ruin her place in polite society. Most important to a girl's chances of success was a voucher to Almacks granted by the patronesses, social leaders of high society such as Lady Jersey, Princess Lieven, Lady Cowper, Lady Castlereagh, Mrs. Drumond Burrell, and Princess Esterhazy. While these ladies demanded conduct beyond reproach from the young ladies they approved, some of these patronesses dabbled in extra-marital affairs. But such behavior was forgivable as long as one were married and discreet. Society gentlemen gambled away huge amounts of money at exclusive men's clubs such as Wite's or Brook's and openly cavorted with their mistresses at Vaxuhall Gardens or at balls hosted by members of the not-so-respectable **_**demimonde **_**or people who are not considered to be entirely respectable****. Society and fashion revolved around the Prince of Wales, who was a man of great charm and education, but who suffered from great moral and financial excesses. **

**6) **_**Tu me manques, ma femme **__**chérie **_**– French for "I missed you, my darling wife"**

**7) **_**Lothario**_** – is a mid-18****th**** century term which refers to a man seeking affairs with women. In short, it is a synonym for a "womanizer". The term was derived from a character in Nicholas Rowe's tragedy **_**"The Fair Penitent"**_**.**

**8) When Derrick said that Massie would only forgive him on St. George's Day, it means 'never' there being no such saint.**

**I really hope that through my notes, you will be able to understand my story and get a vivid picture of the setting. My purpose for including notes at the end is not to lengthen the chapter but to aid you, my loyal readers, through the story. **

**Review, please! :D **


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"_I see you have all reunited behind my back. I daresay I feel hurt." A familiar voice sounded from behind them._

_All four turned to find who dared to interrupt them in such a disrespectful manner._

_Then for the first time since the beginning of the evening, Massie's lips curved into a genuine smile which turned men's hearts to melted organs. _

"_Josh!"_

The next thing that happened stunned Alicia, Cam, and the most, Derrick.

After Massie's exuberant squeal of the Viscount of Bathursts's Christian name, she rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck.

And then she pecked him on the cheek.

Albeit friendly, Derrick couldn't make himself believe it was that. Platonic. He felt the irrational fury swell up his chest and he had to clench his teeth to bite back the uncouth retort he had in mind.

Josh remained motionless, although he was as equally stunned by her spontaneous kiss – _friendly, it was friendly_, he had to remind himself mentally - as Massie hugged him tight. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and laughed. "Whoa. Slow down there." He pulled away slightly and grinned cheekily at her. "Missed me so much?"

Massie chuckled. "I can barely stand the sight of you and you think I missed you?" She joked.

Josh pouted. He looked utterly foolish. "I fear you've caused a permanent injury on my ego."

With one last laugh and a playful punch on his shoulder, Massie pulled away from Josh and turned back to the others who were staring suspiciously at them.

Josh greeted each of his friends cheerfully. "Alicia, you still look as stunning as before. Cam, I say, my lord, now, isn't it?" He pounded St. James on the back.

Cam snorted. "As I said to all the people around here, I'm still getting used to the ridiculous title."

And they all laughed at that, save Derrick albeit Massie only laughed half-heartedly, realizing that she had made a relapse again. She should have just greeted him formally and not have acted like that. But the joy of seeing Josh, the only one who had been there for her all those years of grieving and through those years they had grown so close that they knew each other better than they knew themselves, overwhelmed her and she simply could not hold her happiness back.

Derrick, on the other hand, was still recovering from the shock and the surprising rage that filled him when he saw Massie's delighted expression as she uttered Josh's name and when she suddenly ran to him and threw her arms around her. His ire increased ten-fold when she kissed him. Why would she react to Josh like that when she can't even give him a proper welcome-back hug? She couldn't even stand to be within the same room as he.

What in hell was going on between them? Were they lovers? _Apparently so_, Derrick thought with grimness. He felt like grabbing Josh by the collar and rip him limb to limb as he watched them exchanging secretive glances.

Then Josh turned to him, a glint coming into his eyes. Annoyance? He wasn't sure. But what he was sure of was that Josh was definitely not happy to see him back. Derrick inwardly snorted in satisfaction. "Red." He nodded at him, his smile still at place though it held a different meaning than the one he gave the others. "I see your back now. When my servants told me you have returned, I thought they were merely joking. But I see you here, in flesh, well, I can't deny that I'm surprised."

Derrick straightened and plastered a faux smile on his face. "I, myself, am more than surprised at the changes that occurred since I left London." _Just like the relationship you have with my wife_, his eyes told him.

Josh chuckled. "You'd be more surprised at the other changes that happened since you fled." Not _left_ but _fled_, Derrick noted.

Sensing the growing tension between the two, Alicia decided to intervene. "I have to admit I miss the old times. We ought to get together once again, relish the old times, if you know what I mean." She glanced at Derrick as she ended her statement.

Grasping the moment to excuse themselves, Derrick moved to stand behind Massie which placed him between her and Josh. He reached for her hand and clasped it in his. He turned to the others and said, "It's been insightful, talking to you again, my dearest friends, but I believe my wife and I must excuse ourselves. She'd been suffering a headache, who with a schedule such as hers wouldn't?" He laughed to himself.

"Isn't that so, child?" Alicia asked, her lips curving into that glass-like smile again.

Josh turned to Massie, ignoring Derrick who was trying to get in between them. "You're sick, Mass?" He inquired, his voice colored with concern. His hand flew to her forehead. "are you sure it's just a headache?"

Massie swatted his hand away. "I'm all right, Josh." She glanced at Derrick who looked at her pointedly. "It's just a headache." She lied, curious at what he had to say to her enough to lie to his friends. "Nothing to have you worried about." She reassured him when he started to say something in opposition.

Impatient and clearly irritated by Josh's extravagant display of concern for _his _wife, Derrick stepped in between them, "accidentally" shoving Josh aside. "Excuse us." He bowed to their friends and placed Massie's hand, which was clasped in his, around his arm. He glanced at her. "Ready, darling?"

Massie nodded at him and turned to bid the others goodbye. "I do insist you drop by sometime at the townhouse, Josh." She told Josh with a genuine smile.

Josh nodded, chuckling. "Yes because if I won't, you'll have me hunted with those giants you call as guards."

Massie frowned at him. "Grainger and Rigor are not giants. They're just as big as you, Josh. Surely, you exaggerate." Sensing Derrick growing impatient beside her, she bid him a last goodbye and allowed Derrick to tow her away.

"Where are you taking me?" Massie asked him as he led her out of the ballroom.

"Home." He simply answered, continuing his brisk walk.

"Slow down." She told him. "Derrick, slow down! My legs are not as long as yours! _Derrick, slow down!_" She demanded.

Indeed, he slowed down. And stopped them when they reached the entrance hall.

Massie gasping for air turned to glare at him with one hand on her chest, trying to calm her turbo-beating heart. "Tell me. When you told," – breathe – "the others that you're staying at the townhouse," – breathe – "do you actually intend to do just that?"

Derrick faced her and matched her glare with a mischievous grin. "Oh, yes, and much, much more." The words were uttered quietly in dark, velvet tone that she felt going deep inside her, brushing, touching, caressing her.

Massie had to fight a shiver. "I don't think I gave you the permission to make such decisions, Redvers."

Derrick leaned closer to her until she had to lean away from him to keep a safe distance between them. They remained like that for awhile; simply staring at each other. He trapped her with the intensity of his eyes. "I own the house, remember, _mon ange_?"

Oh, God. She had been wishing he wouldn't call her _that_. It brought her memories of their passion-filled times before. Whenever he needed to coax her into doing something or convince her of something, all he needed was to call her "_mon ange_" in his deep, sensual voice and she'll be lost. In a frenzy wherein she no longer cared about anything. Her body no longer willed her mind to think. She would do anything he would tell her, agree to anything he said no matter how ludicrous or impossible it may be.

She caught her breath. "Derrick. We can't go through that path again. Ever." She whispered shakily.

He said nothing. He continued to stare at her though a new mien entered his eyes, mixing with desire, speculation and curiosity. Determination, perhaps? She wasn't sure. What she was sure of was if he continued this… endeavour of his, for the lack of a better word, it would be inevitable for her to wind up to the road she had gone through four years ago. The road which caused her so much pain that she thought she would never resurface from it.

Dear Lord, she was starting to fall for him again.

"Here comes the carriage." He said without removing his gaze from her.

As she heard the sound of horses cantering towards them, Massie suddenly straightened, fixing her hair. Hiding a smile, Derrick also straightened up and waited for the footman to hold the door open for them.

"This is your carriage." Massie said as _his _footman greeted both of them and went to open the door.

Derrick captured her hand. "I sent yours back home."

Again, Massie turned to frown at him but he didn't comment.

He was in the process of handing Massie's hand to the footman so he could assist her up into the carriage when Josh suddenly came out of the hall, calling Massie's name.

Whirling around, Massie watched as Josh ran to her, stopping just a few feet in front of her.

"My lady?" Derrick's footman asked her.

Massie nodded him away. "It would be for a moment only."

He turned to Derrick who nodded. "The duchess won't need your assistance, Fred."

Fred bowed low to both of them and to Josh before he went back to join the coachman.

"Mine, on the other hand, she'll need." He muttered only for Massie to hear.

She glanced at him and gave him a glare.

He met with one of his own.

"I agreed to your preposterous proposition." She told him meaningfully. "Can't you compromise?"

He frowned at her, realizing the logic and fairness in what she said. But he nodded as a thought entered his mind. He took Massie's hand in his and brought it up to his mouth. He placed a kiss which he made sure would linger on her skin for quite awhile. Then he straightened up, slowly releasing her hand. He was satisfied with the bemused expression on her face. "Be quick, darling. Don't make me wait too long."

His wife watched him as Derrick glanced at Josh whom he gave a wicked grin before he got up inside his carriage. She sighed and placing her hand on Josh's arm, she moved them a few feet from the carriage where Derrick could not hear them.

"What is it that you want to talk to me with, Josh?" She asked him, staring up expectantly at his tense face.

"Is he bothering you?"

Massie frowned at him, wondering who he was talking about. "_He_?"

"He. Derrick." Josh answered impatiently. "So, is he bothering you?" He prompted when she hesitated.

Massie did not want to tell Josh that she did not really – honestly, deep, deep, deep, deep in her heart - find Derrick bothering her. Only reminding her of their past and regaining the feelings he had evoked in her. She did not want Josh to think that she was falling in love with him again. As she really was, she thought with dry humor.

And she did not also want to lie to him because the moment the fib comes out of her mouth, he would know it. They – well, _she _never got passed him. He had told her before that she wore her heart on her sleeve too much. And although it was beautiful – to be honest with yourself – it still gave an advantage to other people to use your feelings against you. So with practice and determination, she had achieved the aptitude to mask her feelings completely. But it never worked on Josh though he had always had a knack of only choosing which of his emotions to let her see.

When Massie hesitated to answer, Josh misunderstood her silence. "I knew it!" He suddenly exploded. "That son of a bitch has returned to make your life a living hell and then he'll leave again once he's finished with you!" He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "Doesn't the asshole know what you've gone through? Does he know you were pre –"

Massie had allowed him his outburst, knowing he was just concerned of her, but she snapped when he was about to mention _that_. She glared at him. "Don't you dare, Josh."

Josh thought for awhile, pursing his lips, then he sighed in defeat. "Okay. I apologize for my insolence." Then he looked at her. Intently. "I just don't want you to get hurt again."

Massie also sighed and she reached out to touch Josh's cheek. "I know that, Josh, and I am grateful for your concern. However," she added firmly, "I am older and wiser than the naïve girl that I was he married four years ago."

"I know that." Josh murmured.

"And I admit that I am downright curious as to why he's so adamant on intruding my life again." Massie took note that he didn't like what she said. "Now, why are you frowning?" She asked, pulling her hand from his cheek.

"I don't like the sound of that." When she raised an eyebrow at him, he elaborated. "Him being adamant on intruding your life again. I don't like it. It sounds to me like he wants to get back with you."

Massie frowned thoughtfully. After a pause, she finally spoke without looking at him. "He told me awhile ago that he wants to talk to me. About us."

Josh's eyes narrowed to slits. "And?" He prompted when she didn't continue.

Massie lifted her eyes to his and glared at him. "And nothing!" Her voice raised a little. "We haven't talked yet but I mean to listen to whatever he has to say." She admitted.

It was awhile before Josh replied. He appeared like he was taking a deep breath to calm himself. Massie couldn't understand why he was much angrier at this than her who was the one left broken by her husband. "So you're saying that you're giving him a second chance?"

Massie seemed shocked at what he said, at first. It really didn't occur to her that she would give Derrick a second chance. She meant to listen to whatever he had to say. That was all there was to it. "I intend to listen to him with an open mind." She answered.

It was an indirect reply and Josh frowned at that but he concealed his features at once. He knew what plan Derrick had in mind. Judging by his protectiveness and possessiveness towards Massie that night only served proof to Josh's speculation that Derrick's agenda was to get back with his wife. Anyone with an eye would have seen that obvious fact.

Josh wasn't a fool and he knew why Derrick suddenly wanted to be back with Massie. His wife was one of the most – probably, the most – beautiful women in London, one of the richest, most definitely the most intellectual. She held a very high position in the _ton_ and was well-loved by the royalties because of the high taxes she paid and her generous charities, including the newly-opened Emerald Art Museum for Talented Youngsters.

She was the modern-day collaboration of Aphrodite for her enchanting beauty and Athena for her vast acumen.

Who wouldn't want to be with her? To stand beside the glory?

Yes. That was what Derrick wanted, Josh thought with grimness. To stand beside the glory. He had always been a greedy son of a bitch, insatiable even.

But the problem was Massie still harbored feelings for him. Even if she tried to hide it from him, Josh knew that she probably never got over him. She loved Derrick so much from the very beginning. From the way he knew Massie, she was not the type of woman who would love someone that much and simply get over it after a few years. He knew the love she felt for Derrick was true. And it still held genuine after 4 years, 1460 days, 35040 hours, 2102400 minutes…

Tears that could fill the Thames River and the pain that he had witnessed her drown into.

Josh felt he was working himself into a fit. He needed to calm down. But he needed to do something that would change Massie's mind, or at least, make her disagree in whatever Derrick would propose to her. He contemplated professing to her his love right now, then and there. But he didn't want to tell her that he had loved her for a very long time and had only waited for her to heal from the wounds she had acquired and open her heart in a more romantic sense to him under duress. That would ruin the essence of it.

He didn't consider himself as a romantic but he also did not want to do this the wrong, hurried way to the first woman he had loved. Truly. Deeply.

_No. He had to wait. _

_But what if Derrick gets a chance?_

_No. He had to wait. That was the right thing to do._

_She was still in love with her husband, asshole! Of course, she'll run back to him!_

God, he needed to sort his thoughts out before he got a massive migraine.

Sighing in temporary defeat, Josh lowered his eyes to meet Massie. "Just remember that I'll _always _be here for you, _ma petit_." He said in a soft whisper. "I'll always have time for you. Whenever you need me, I'll be there. You understand, Massie?"

Massie looked up and met his eyes. A dazzling smile graced her features. "Yes. You're the best, Josh. I don't know what I would do without you." Thinking only to express her gratitude for his friendship and care, she stood on her tiptoes and brushed a light kiss on his cheek. She pulled back. "Good night, Josh." Then she turned around and headed for the carriage.

The carriage door opened and Derrick appeared, smiling and extending a hand to help Massie into the vehicle. With one last parting smile at Josh, Massie accepted Derrick's offered hand and allowed him to haul her in.

The elegant black phaeton cantered away from the White Hall entrance lobby and into the unruffled London streets.

After Massie and Derrick left, Josh stayed behind the steps of the White Hall, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his trousers, a brooding look on his handsome face.

When Massie accepted Derrick's offered hand to assist her into the vehicle and she glanced back to smile at him, Josh felt an odd sensation that clutched his heart painfully.

He felt like he was losing her. Again.

And, maybe, this time, it would be forever.

Because Derrick, himself, was different.

Josh had indeed arrived late that night to the museum opening but he had only been a few minutes late. When he had entered the ballroom, the first person he spotted was Derrick. He was staring at Massie with a peculiar expression on his face. Josh had already been informed by his butler that Derrick had arrived back in town so he wasn't that much surprised at seeing him in the ballroom. What surprised him had been the look on Derrick's eyes which Josh had never seen before in all the years they had been best friends.

It was the look he, Josh, had when he was looking at Massie.

The look which spoke of his feelings for her.

The look of his love for her.

It had filled Josh with dread as these thoughts entered his mind. He had debated with himself to intercept Massie and Derrick who were now talking with each other when Derrick had suddenly put his hand out as if he were asking her to dance.

After a moment's hesitation, Massie had complied.

Their dance radiated emotion. It had enamored the crowd. It had aggravated jealous admirers, both of the duke and the duchess.

But for Josh, it had robbed him of all the hope that he had in making Massie fall in love with him.

That was when he had realized Massie was still as completely and as much as before in love with her husband, the raging horse-scoundrel of London.

Josh sighed.

He still considered himself best friends with Derrick despite the things that had happened over the years. Their years of building up the brotherhood and the bond they had now could never be trampled by any mishap.

But he loved Derrick's wife. So much that sometimes he felt inclined to throw away the friendship he had with Derrick of almost 20 years to be with Massie.

Massie still loved Derrick. Derrick was in the road leading to loving her. Josh was already at her backdoor, waiting for her to accept him. But she closed it and only opened the front to wait for Derrick to come.

So many thoughts. So many emotions. So many questions.

But no ultimate answer.

Suddenly as if demented, Josh let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head at the turn of events. "_Je serai condamné_."

The Viscount of Bathurst looked one last time at the evening sky before he turned around to join the festivities inside the ballroom of the White Hall.

* * *

**I have already written Chapter 10 a few days ago after I finished writing Chapter 8 but because of certain reviews which made me think and reevaluate my plot, I rewrote Chapter 10 and so this is the product. I hope it was up to your expectation.**

**This is a break from the rather super long chapters I've been posting recently but I do wish you still liked it.**

**On another note, I would like to thank all those who reviewed, read, favorited, alerted me and the story. I really love it when readers really sit down and think thoroughly after reading my story and they put all their thoughts in their reviews. To **_**Lissie04**_** who suggested that I should make this a Mosh since there are far too many Massingtons already, well, let's just see where the characters would take us. But thank you for the suggestion which was well-supported by your reason. The characters and I would discuss about it. *wink* To **_**pansy25**_**who I anticipate her every review, thank you for your utterly **_**enthralling**_** review which was a composition of detailed suggestions and hope. I am currently considering some of your suggestions. (To my readers: I would like to give the honor to Miss pansy25 who suggested that I should bring back Cam and Alicia in the story and that Massie should hug and kiss Josh when she sees him so that Derrick gets a little jealous. In this case, more than a little jealous. Hahaha!) Btw, with your question regarding Alicia, the answer is yes. Her husband knows of her many dalliances and he allows her but telling her to be careful not to get pregnant which would have been a bigger issue than taking many lovers. And, fyi, her husband is three times her age and she only married him for his money, and he for her beauty seeing it as an asset to his position in society. And also with your other question, yes and no, Massie does have friends other than her lady's maid (Claire) but she doesn't consider them as genuine friends. So, no, other than Claire, Massie doesn't have any real friends. Oh, aside from Claire, there's Josh! Haha. He's Massie best friend, guardian angel, confidant and he is the closest she has to a brother.**

**To the others who reviewed, although I can't include reply to everyone, but know that I read them all and LOVED them all! THANK YOU SO MUCH! :D We're past 100 reviews now! Keep them coming, keep 'em coming! :)))  
**

**Notes to Chapter 10:**

**1) **_**mon ange – **_**French for "my angel" **

**2) **_**ma petit **_**– French for "my little one" **

**3) ) **_**Je serai condamné – **_**French for "I'll be damned"**

**P.S. Can you imagine someone as hot and sexy as hell as Chace Crawford or Ian Somerhalder or Tom Felton (eep!) speaks to you in French? Oh, God! I'd marry him the second he finishes his sentence even if he only asked where the comfort room is. ;) :D**


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Massie thought if she granted Derrick's request, he would leave her alone and not pester her.

She laughed at her stupidity for thinking such thought.

It all started quite all right.

She and Derrick arrived at the townhouse together, shocking the servants albeit they tried to hide it. But their pleasure in seeing their master for a very long time again was clearly shown on their faces. Derrick had been equally pleased at seeing his servants and he spent quite some time, catching up with them, while Massie waited by the sitting room for her possessions to be transferred to the other room. She had asked him upon arriving where he wished to discuss the things he wanted to talk to her about but he had told her in a clipped tone that it can wait for tomorrow. She had frowned at what he had said, prepared herself to retort, but had figured that she was too tired to argue with him.

It was past 10 when the servants finished and Massie did not bother bidding Derrick good night in hopes of not attracting his attention and have him follow her. She had a bath prepared for her and when she entered the bed chamber which was the second biggest bedroom to the master's sleeping quarters, she immediately took a hasty bath.

She was just coming out of the bathroom when a knock sounded from the boudoir's door.

"Just a minute!" She called out, reaching for the Parisian silk robe at the edge of the tub. She put it on and tied the knot loosely around her waist.

Another impatient knock sounded.

She raced past the French doors separating the sleeping quarter from the bathing room and ran to open the door.

Thinking it was the servants coming to dispense the water from the tub, she said, "I just got out from the tub. You can get the -" She looked up and her eyes widened in shock.

There standing before him in nothing but a pair of slacks that looked incredibly sexy on him, Derrick was smiling outrageously at her, eyeing her scantily-clad form from head to toe with a hot gaze that lingered at her neckline which unbeknownst to her had parted slightly, giving him a not-so-sufficient-but-enough-to-keep-him-up-tonight-thinking-about-the-rest view of her breasts.

Instinctively, Massie wrapped her hands around herself as if shielding her body from his lecherous intentions. "What do you want?"

Derrick raised his eyes to hers. "Ah." He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his massive chest. "Do you know, in the span of two days, that has grown into my favorite line?"

Bewildered, Massie gazed up at him. "_Excusez-moi_?"

Derrick chuckled. "_Rien, ma chèrie_."

Massie narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, then if there's nothing else, I advise you to retire to your quarters and have a good sleep, Redvers." She was about to close the door when Derrick intercepted, his hand on the door.

Slowly pushing the door wider, he whispered huskily to her, "Are we back to that, darling?"

He was suddenly swallowing her up, standing a mere inch from her. He was much too close. Dangerously so.

In a rush of panic, Massie pushed him with all her might albeit it did not harm him but had him out of the bedroom and into the dimly lit hall. She closed the door and locked it while she heard Derrick laugh at the other end of the door.

"_Bonne nuit, _Massie, sweetheart!"

And she thought it was the end of the long night.

An hour later as she was on the verge of sleeping, a zealous knock interrupted the tranquil night.

She already knew who it was and contemplated whether to open the door and entertain him or not. Not, she decided.

She turned on her side and closed her eyes, willing herself into a dreamless sleep.

Seconds later, sequential impetuous knocks thundered on and on through the night. Massie groaned loudly in aggravation and shoving the covers aside, she got up from bed and went to open the door, finding a still-half-naked Derrick Harrington grinning broadly down at her.

"I knew you can't resist me." He stated quite smugly.

Massie curbed the urge to slap him, knowing she'll only injure herself in the end. She took a deep, steadying breath instead. "To what pleasure do I owe you, Your Grace, that you simply had to march to my bedroom and knock incessantly at my door like some lunatic?" She sarcastically asked.

Derrick stared at her thoughtfully. "Hm. Sarcasm doesn't suit you."

"What do you want, Derrick?" She shouted furiously at him, having enough with his foolish comments.

Derrick straightened and smiled. "Now, that's better. My feisty little wife." He winked at her. "I came by to tell you I cannot sleep." He told her as if it were a crisis.

He had her reaction etched in his brain. It was simply… priceless. Massie looked like she was about to rip her hair from her scalp and her hand did move an inch but it stopped. "I'm exhausted and you woke me up, not to mention, the entire neighborhood probably with your irritating knocking, because you cannot sleep?" The last word was said in a near shout. "God, I'm going mad!"

"I thought you could help me." He told her.

"Aside from the fact that it is a futile reason to disturb another person's sleep, I do not see that your insomnia is my problem."

He suddenly grinned at her. "Some cuddling would do the trick."

Massie groaned helplessly and slammed the door at his face.

She could hear him chuckling.

Massie dragged herself to the bed and jumped, face first, on the middle of the bed. She closed her eyes and after a few restless turns, she drifted to sleep.

Massie sighed in her sleep, dreaming of sunsets and warmth. She cuddled closer to the warm pillow beside her and sniffed unconsciously, inhaling the wonderful musky scent of the hard cushion.

Some time in her slumber, Massie grew aware that the scent radiating from the pillow she was hugging reeked so familiar and male. Her last though woke her senses up.

_Pillows are not hard_.

She awoke with a start, instantly feeling a presence beside her. A strong possessive arm was wrapped around her waist. Her leg was trapped between two powerful thighs and her face was buried in someone's naked chest.

Massie jolted upright, causing the dark figure beside her to wake up, panicking and cursing. She reached for the lampshade beside her bed and flicked the light on.

"You gave me such a fright!" Massie shrieked as Derrick continued cussing – goodness, the man knew a lot of them – and rubbing his jaw which must have collided quite harshly with the top of her head.

And then Massie realized she was clad in a sheer nightgown that barely hid her body. And he was naked from the waist up.

"Derrick, why in God's name are you here? On my bed? Naked?" Massie was surprised at how calm she sounded. Or so, she thought.

Derrick rubbed his eyes with his wrist. "Sleeping." He yawned and fell back on the bed again, covering his eyes with an arm. "And by the way, my dear, I'm only half-naked." Then he peeked at her. "Would you be more comfortable if I go completely raw?" He asked her in a sleepy yet reasonable tone.

"NO!" Massie could not hide the blush that crept up her neck and cheeks. "Don't you have better things to do other than to harass me?"

"I'm just sleeping, Mass." He yawned again and hid behind his arm.

"Well, can't you sleep on your own bed? It's bigger than this one and much more comfortable."

"Well, I want to sleep with you." Yawn.

"Can't you find other women to warm your bed?" She could not suppress the jealousy in her tone.

"I only intend to sleep, Mass, but if you want to make love tonight, then I think I could oblige."

Massie moaned desperately. She stood up.

Without removing his arm from his eyes, Derrick closed his hand around her wrist and pulled her back on top of him. He removed his hand from her wrist and wrapped it around her waist, keeping her there.

"Unhand me, sir! I swear I'll shout for help if you would not let me go!"

Derrick sighed cantankerously. "You're already shouting, for God's sake, woman!" He yelled.

Massie immediately shut up but continued struggling.

"And stop struggling if you don't want to find yourself suddenly flat on your back!"

Without any hesitation, Massie complied, knowing fully well he wasn't the one to bluff.

"Now, that's better. Don't you think so?" Massie could hear him smile.

"I hate you." Massie grumbled.

Again, Massie heard him sigh. But this time, it sounded more like from… guilt? "I know. It will probably take you years to forgive me but I won't give up. I left you and goodness knows what would have happened to you if you weren't a duchess and had money. I'll try to make it up to you now." He suddenly felt her tense. He moved his hand from her waist to stroke her back. He kissed her hair. "It's late. Sleep now, little one. You're exhausted. We'll discuss this over in the morning." He removed her hand from his chest and kissed it before he wove it with his fingers. "Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up tomorrow. And for the rest of our lives." Before he could wait for her response, he was already asleep, his slow breathing and gentle snoring told her so.

Massie closed her eyes, feeling the emotions his honest admission evoked flood through her.

Was it possible? Did he really mean what he said? Could he really be speaking the truth of being remorseful for what he did and that he wanted her back as his wife? Could it really be real?

But he did not know about the child she had been carrying! If only he knew how deep the pain he had caused her ran, he would probably think years would not be enough to forgive him.

But then again, he sounded so sincere and truly contrite. Maybe he was harboring… feelings for her now?

"…_returned to make your life a living hell and then he'll leave again once he's finished with you!"_ Josh's voice echoed in her head.

Massie refused to think further. She decided she'll just let this – whatever it was – pass since she was too tired to stay up and argue with him, and just wait for morning to come then she'll demand him to leave her alone.

With that decision in her mind, she let herself relax in Derrick and felt his arm instinctively tightening, hugging her close.

Massie unthinkingly smiled, gradually falling unconscious.

As she was falling asleep, unbeknownst to her awareness and Derrick's, a tear escaped the corner of her eye.

Outside of Redvers Townhouse in upscale London, the sun was already high and bright. The streets were void of the beau monde since it was customary for the men and women of the haut ton to rise around 9. Only those from the middle class and the lower class herded the pathways, rushing to the market to buy fresh fruits and vegetable harvested in the rural. Young lads on battered bicycles piloted block after block, delivering today's daily.

It was a day in London filled with buoyancy.

Inside the Redvers Townhouse, the servants were awake and bustling as per usual. But there was an added flurry among the devoted staff.

"Do you think the Duke is back for good?" Claire, Massie's lady's maid, asked Trevor as she sat on a high chair in the kitchen.

Trevor who was seated across from her turned in his chair to face away from her. He stared at the brass clock above, unseeing it. He did not give her any answer.

Last night, he was stunned when the Duke suddenly arrived together with Massie. But he remembered that his master previously asked the location of the titles of his grandfather's land in York so Trevor assumed that he was here to retrieve them from the Duchess. What he and all the servants did not expect was him to stay for the night, much less _insist _to sleep with Massie. Albeit from the noise they had heard last night, she did not easily give up.

Ramsey, the vulgar cook, huffed. "Get those windmills out of your head, lass." He rebuked as he prepared breakfast for their employers.

Julia, his wife, who was helping him butter the French toast, abandoned what she was doing to smack the back of his head.

Ramsey jumped. "Aye! What the bloody hell did you do that for, woman?"

"Quit being such a gloomy Gus." Julia told him sternly. "If His Grace wants to come back, then it's up to them couples to have their marriage put to rights. It's none of our business."

Ramsey rubbed the back of his head, scoffing. "Ain't seem not our business four years past." He commented which drew him into an argument with his wife about privacy, matrimonial problems, and such.

Ignoring the commotion, Claire braced her elbows on the countertop and leaned forward. She sighed dreamily. "I think His Grace is falling in love with the Duchess this time. I feel he came back to fix their marriage." Her comment halted the argument the married couple was having and made them turn to her, shocked. Even Trevor turned to stare at her, though his expression was curious.

Ramsey looked outraged. "Are you daft, lass? In love my arse." He scoffed. "Just wait and he'll be back with his harlots." He scoffed again, turning back to preparing breakfast. "In love my arse." He murmured. "And our graceship is made of steel, aye, lass. Steel. She ain't lettin' the daft boy reel her back in the barn."

The other three servants turned to look at each other and they rolled their eyes heavenward.

Julia cleared her throat. "I think it best you wake up the slumbering pair, Trev."

Trevor glanced at Ramsey who was still mumbling to himself as he flipped the strips of bacon on the pan. Trevor turned back to Julia and nodded. "Yes. I think it's time those love birds wake up." With a nod towards Claire who was giggling, he stood from the chair and made his way upstairs.

In one of the bed chambers, the Duke and Duchess slept peacefully entwined with each other. The atmosphere inside the fairly-sized boudoir was equally optimistic as the sun graced its glowing rays inside the room through the window.

Massie stirred in her sleep, moaning lightly. She shifted and through her subconscious, she realized she was wrapped around something or someone. A strong, heavy arm rested around her hip and her own arm was wrapped around someone's waist. But the feeling of being held so warmly and familiarly felt so delightful and she had not slept so serenely that she chose to ignore the other thoughts that entered her mind.

She was just drifting back into complete oblivion when a polite yet insistent knock sounded on the door.

"It's ten past eight, Your Graces." A voice which sounded like Trevor's announced from the other side. His announcement was followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

Derrick and Massie awoke immediately from their sleep at the authoritative voice of the butler but they gradually came to consciousness of their surroundings. First thing that they came aware of was that they were in someone's arms. They both groaned at the same time as if they choreographed the moment then they stilled. Massie raised her head to look up as Derrick lowered his head to look down.

Raven eyes met amber orbs. And captured. Memories of last night's waggish episode replayed in their mind and were mirrored in their eyes. They knew the other was remembering what transpired last night. Especially Derrick's poignant revelation.

Recalling his words and the emotion which they were wove into, Massie blushed and looked away. "If we don't get up, Trevor will barge in through the door." She warned him, her voice timid. Then she cleared her throat, forcing her shield to come.

Derrick sighed, releasing her and making his move to stand up. "No doubt he will." The childish surliness in his tone caused Massie to laugh out loud –a laugh that she could not help from escaping her mouth.

He paused, loving the sound of her laughter, and turned to face her. "I missed that."

Massie who was already standing and stretching seized laughing and glanced at him, confused. "What?"

Derrick stared at her thoughtfully for a moment before he shook his head and walked to open the door. "Nothing. I was just talking to myself." He ran a hand through his hair. "Did that man say that it's ten past eight?"

Massie nodded.

"Who the hell wakes up at eight o'clock in the morning? No one in the _ton_ wakes up till 10." He shook his head.

"I do." She said, causing Derrick to turn around and give her a stunned look. "Every day from the past four years, to be exact."

"Why?"

Massie merely shrugged.

Derrick shook his head again as if she said something unbelievable and left the room, shutting the door before him. But not before he glanced back at her with a thoughtful expression.

Massie gazed – well, frowned – at the door for a minute, wondering what it meant. Then she shook her head, thinking that this new Derrick was harder to figure out than the old Derrick.

She went inside the bathroom and drew a bath for herself. She waited for the water to fill up as she thought of the previous night.

They hadn't mentioned – at least, out loud – what he said the night before. Maybe he said those words subconsciously. He seemed a bit surly this morning, she thought.

Massie groaned."Don't think too much. That's what your biggest problem is. You think too much. Let things flow and see where this thing between you will lead to." _And what if you get hurt again? _A voice in the back of her head said. "Stop thinking! And as if you're letting him get to you! You're made of stronger stuff, Massie! Snap out of it!"

Someone cleared her throat from the door of the bathroom.

Massie looked up and found her lady's maid, standing abashedly, carrying some of her towels. She must have heard her monologue. Massie blushed.

"Um, do you need my help, Your Grace?" Claire asked her.

Massie cleared her throat, embarrassed at having her lady's maid hear her ranting. "Actually, no, Claire. I don't have any appointments for today so I think I'll manage fine."

Claire nodded, looking disappointed, then turned around to leave.

Massie sighed in relief and slowly took off her nightgown. She got in the plunge bath and buried herself in the warm, relaxing water.

Inside the vast bathroom of the master's bedroom, Derrick was indulging himself a calming bath also. Neck-deep in the water with his arms on both sides of the tub and his head leaned comfortably back against the cool marble, Derrick allowed himself to wander in his thoughts.

Last night was the best night of his life, so far. And it stunned him considering that it did not even involve intense lovemaking yet he felt like he made love to Massie in every way possible. He felt… sated. He couldn't understand why.

He meant every word he said last night. He intended to stay with her for the rest of their lives though he did not know why he wanted to do that. The idea of settling down never appealed to him before but…

Damn! His thoughts were so disgruntled. He himself could not set them straight.

He even forgot to ask her about his great-grandfather's land titles. Sometimes, he even forgot about the bet he made with Harriet. Most of the times, he forgot that his initial plan was to seduce her. Now, as he thought of it, it seemed more like it was _his _seduction taking place. Not hers.

Derrick closed his eyes and imagined the feel of Massie in his arms, so soft and feminine. Her hair, velvet against his skin. Derrick's muscles tightened in reaction. He forced himself to stop thinking about her, knowing that he would most definitely be carrying a _big_ problem all day.

He needed to control his emotion around her. He was like a schoolboy experiencing his first love.

God, what's wrong with him?

Derrick groaned. He didn't have an answer, nor did he wish to find out the answer to _that_ question.

**Okay. This is shorter than I normally write but I'm terribly sorry. I just felt it was right to end it at that note. Haha. I hope it was okay with you.**

**And there are a lot of you saying that Massie shouldn't forgive Derrick and she should tell him about her pregnancy. And then she goes to Josh to be with him. Oh, a lot of you are saying this ought to be a Mosh. Some of you said that why is Derrick acting like a prick and Massie forgives him so quickly. Okay. I'll try to answer your questions as best as I can. See, I'm trying to make this as realistic as possible. From the previous chapters and even in this chapter, you'll notice that Massie says that she still harbors feelings for Derrick, the first man she has ever loved romantically and truly, after all those years but she fights these feelings off, partly because she doesn't want society to view her as easy who runs back to her husband even if he left her without a word, and also the other half is because she is uncertain of Derrick. She's afraid to love him again, unknowing when he'll snap out of his fantasy and leave her again. You can also see how hard she fights him off but Derrick is just persistent. And if someone as persistent as Derrick and someone who loves him as much as Massie does, then of course, she'll have a few slips. And Massie _has not _forgiven Derrick yet. **

**I already have plans for this story and I hope you can all bear with me for the moment and not let me spoil the fun. I myself am getting impatient. Haha :D  
**

**Tell me your thoughts in your reviews. Reviews encourages me to write more and write faster. Not to mention, write better. ;)**

**Notes to Chapter 11:**

**1) **_**Excusez-moi **_**– French for "Excuse me"**

**2) **_**Rien, ma chèrie **_**– French for "Nothing, my darling"**

**3) **_**Bonne nuit**_** – French for "Good night"**

**4) daily – Archaic term for "newspaper"**

**5) Get those windmills out of your head – 18****th**** and 19****th**** century slang for "Get those foolish notions out of your head"**

**6) gloomy Gus – another word for "pessimist"**

**Any questions, any clarifications, please just include it in your reviews or send me a PM. :D**


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Massie paused by the doors leading to the dining hall, her hand closed apprehensively around the golden doorknob. She debated whether she should plead having a headache or simply go inside and eat her breakfast with her eyes closed and her ears plugged with invisible cotton balls.

It all was ridiculous. She had nothing to be embarrassed about, for God's sake. Then why the hell did she feel like she wanted to run and hide in the nearest closet until Derrick leaves. _If _he had any plans on leaving.

Massie groaned.

She hated what was happening to her. She hated that Derrick had reduced her into a blushing schoolgirl who was constantly in paranoia. Again. She needed to gather her wits again. She didn't want to be thought by people that she was as easy as anyone gets and she would run back into Derrick's arms without a single amount of genuine resistance. She couldn't return to being backstabbed by people in the society and be degraded to being ultimately submissive to her husband's skillful charms.

She needed to put up her mask once again before it was too late.

And she did that. Hands no longer trembling, her back straight, her head held up high, she took a deep breath, her hand twisting to open the doorknob, and she graced Derrick her presence.

Her husband was sitting at the head of the table, as she had expected, hidden behind the curtain of today's newspaper. Trevor was standing by his side, only a few feet behind him in customary distance. Before Trevor could formally announce her presence, Derrick got to him first. Although his was nothing near formal and courteous.

"I'm glad you finally got tired standing outside." He lowered his newspaper enough so his eyes full of amusement were visible to her. "Good morning, darling." He greeted, his eyes twinkling.

Massie nodded curtly at him. "Good morning, Your Grace." She ignored his previous statement about her idling cowardly outside the hall and the frown that broke his face after she had nodded so indifferently at him. Massie could care less. She went to the chair on Derrick's right which Trevor had pulled for her. She sat down and thanked him.

"The usual, Your Grace?"

Massie shook her head. "I would like a strong cup of coffee, Trevor." She thought she needed something stronger than tea to keep her wits around Derrick today.

To say that Trevor was surprised at what she said was an understatement. "But, Your Grace, you never drink coffee."

Massie narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm having coffee, Trevor." She repeated in a firmer tone.

The butler recognized it and he knew that it meant not to argue with her. She rarely used that tone, only among business transactions where she needed to exert more force – and it never failed to chill people to their bones. Added with the intensity of her amber eyes, the challenging tilt of her head, the slight curving of her lip, she gave the perfect impression of a feisty tigress.

Trevor nodded. "As you wish, Madam." He bowed before exiting the hall through the doorless passage leading to the kitchen.

Derrick had been watching Massie and he was more than stunned at the sudden change in her. With that frightening expression she had used, Derrick caught a peek at the new Massie and he realized that she was more than stronger than what she was before. It almost brought him a new set of doubts and uncertainties. This new Massie could not be played and toyed with. He was sure that she could play as dirty as anybody.

It bothered him how different she was now. He thought what brought this sudden change in her. He didn't believe that it was his leaving her and the few not-so-nice words they had exchanged prior to his departure that brought this on. Something else happened to her, he concluded. And he was determined to find that out.

For now, he decided to play like the oblivious husband so she wouldn't guess that he was on her. "Why don't you drink coffee?" He asked conversationally, continuing to pretend to read an article in the newspaper. "You used to drink it three times a day before."

Massie was startled for a moment. She didn't think he would remember that insignificant detail. But thankfully, he couldn't see her because the newspaper was creating a screen between them. She shrugged even though she knew he couldn't see it. She reached for a toast and buttered it as she answered. "I used to but I don't anymore."

"Apparently." Derrick murmured sarcastically. "What I meant to ask is why." He specified impatiently.

Massie couldn't figure why he was so adamant on knowing why she didn't drink coffee anymore. "I just don't. Can't you leave it at that? God, you're irritating." Then she took a dainty bite from her toast.

Derrick lowered the newspaper and held it on his lap, ignoring it for the moment. "I'm irritating? I'm not the one who's acting like a bitch early in the morning." He retorted.

Massie gasped at the insult, dropping the piece of toast on her plate as she turned to glare icily at Derrick. "How dare you call me such an offensive word?" She sounded downright indignant and offended, Derrick regretted what he said at once.

But he wasn't the type of person who took back anything that already came out of his mouth. So he summoned a glare of his own and let it met hers.

Just then, Trevor interrupted them, bringing with him a cup of steaming coffee. Although he knew what was happening – the atmosphere was thick with tension and it wasn't sexual, well, less than half of it was – his face remained oblivious. He placed the cup in front of Massie and left the hall without another word.

"Well, I'm not the one who is prying like an old woman!" Massie screamed at him.

"Prying?" Derrick echoed the word. "You called me asking you a simple and innocent question _prying_?"

"Yes!" Massie stood up and slammed her hands on the table, causing it to shake once. "I don't like it when people ask me questions that are personal!"

Derrick also stood up, towering over her. He was 6 feet and 2 inches tall so he was a good several inches taller than her. He thought that would have intimidated her but he proved him wrong once again. She stood up to him, despite his tallness, and met his glare with an identical one as his.

That was then that Massie earned Derrick's admiration and respect.

"And especially people as callous and despicable such as you who doesn't even know the difference between a woman with a good-breeding from a woman who only knows how to breed good!" And she dared to poke him – not to mention, hard – on his chest. "I despise such men and that includes you!"

They glared at each other for a long moment. Their faces only a few inches apart, Massie's chest heaving heavily, her hands balled into fists at her sides. Derrick refused to let the things she said get to him because he knew that she was just itching to fight him and find a reason to kick him out of _his _house. Derrick remained his cool, simply matching her glare with one of his own. Then after a few minutes when Massie had appeared to have calmed down a bit, Derrick broke the tension-filled silence with a sigh.

"Fighting is ridiculous, Massie." He said, his voice gentle. "I'm not here to argue with you but I am here to have a serious talk with you and I don't want to have you riled."

"If you want to talk about us, then I have no time for that. I have a lot of things to do and I don't have it in my time to talk about petty things." She said, already turning around. She couldn't stand this anymore. She felt drained after shouting so much. Her throat ached, a proof to that.

Derrick reached down and closed his hand around her wrist, pulling her back to face him. "I already took care of that."

Massie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What do you mean you took care of it?"

"I already told Trevor to clear your schedule today so we can have our talk."

That seemed to have angered her again. "How dare you to do such a thing? You don't have any right to interfere with my business."

Derrick narrowed his eyes at her. "I have every right, _ma __chérie_. I'm your husband and I want to talk to you."

Massie scoffed. "Last time I checked, you're only my husband and I'm only your wife in paper. I don't see why you bother yourself so much with having this talk-about-us you've been going on about since last night. There's nothing we ought to talk about." She knew she sounded so callous and apathetic but she didn't care. He deserved to get a taste of his own medicine.

Derrick slightly flinched at her tone but caught himself. He didn't want her to know that _this_ was getting to him. "You've changed." He said. "You've changed so much that I don't recognize you anymore."

Massie laughed bitterly. The sound seemed foreign even to her own ears but she shoved the thought away for later. "I haven't changed that much, _Derrick_. You don't recognize anything past a woman's breasts or backside anyway so," Massie shrugged.

Derrick smiled tightly at her. "Oh, you're right, dear, about what I normally recognize in most women. But you left something out." And he refused to elaborate until she asked him to.

Massie raised her chin slightly upward in a haughty manner. "And what is that?"

He leaned closer, his lips almost an inch from hers, and then he whispered. "I recognize a woman who demeans herself into acting like a stuck-up bitch so she could pick a fight with me and find a reason to kick me out of my _own_ house."

Massie was clearly taken aback by what he said which was most accurate. She forced herself to put some distance between them so she could gather her thoughts and come up with a clever retort but when she tried to pull away, she found that she couldn't move. She knew that Derrick wasn't restraining her or anything. She would have felt if he was pinning her wrists with his. It was his eyes that held her in prison.

So much for holding her ground.

Massie sucked air. "Excuse me?" She managed to croak out. She mentally slapped herself for it.

Now, Derrick's smile was genuine. "You heard me right. Stop lying to yourself." He whispered and was bending to satisfy his hunger for her lips when Trevor entered the dining hall, carrying a missive with him.

"Pardon me, Your Graces." Trevor apologized, seeing that he had interrupted an important discussion.

Massie visibly jumped. Derrick, on the other hand, turned to Trevor with an annoyed expression. His butler slightly smiled at that. "What's amiss that you simply had to barge in without a knock or whatsoever, Trevor?" The duke asked impatiently as Massie resumed to take her seat, gathering her wits.

Trevor walked forward. "Nothing, Your Grace. Only an imperative missive from your mother, the dowager duchess." He handed the white envelope to Derrick and stood aside, waiting for his response to be delivered to the messenger boy waiting outside the dining hall.

Derrick opened the envelope and unfolded the piece of crème parchment which hosted her mother's elegant scrawl. He read the letter quickly and turned to Massie who was busy stirring her coffee. "It appears that my mother wants us – no, demands us to have luncheon over at the family estate. She said it's been a long time since she saw me and she wanted to celebrate my return. Typical mother. Always finding an excuse to host a party." He shook his head and read a certain line from the letter, a small frown etching his features. "She said you haven't visited her for months. You've been paying my mother visits when I was –" he thought for the perfect word "- when I was not here?"

"Yes. I managed to pay her a visit every month but I've been busy lately." She replied without looking up from her cup of coffee which she was still stirring though she didn't plan to drink it. She knew she would simply feel nauseous. Even the smell of caffeine was enough to make her stomach queasy.

"Huh." Was his only reply. Then he turned to Trevor with orders. "Is the messenger still there?"

Trevor nodded. "Yes, Your Grace. The boy's waiting outside the hall."

"Good. Tell him to convey my message to my mother that the duchess and I will be attending." Derrick told him.

Massie's head snapped up. "We're going?" She sounded shocked.

Derrick cocked an eyebrow at her. "Of course. You've nothing to do and I haven't seen my mother yet since I've returned, so why not? And _Maman _will probably not forgive us if we don't come."

It all sounded reasonable and easy for him but Massie thought of the questions his mother will be asking them. If they were getting back together… and similar inquires as such. And goodness knows who else she had invited.

But Massie did not have the heart to deny Derrick's mother. After her father had died, she had been all alone except for Josh and the servants, of course, but Massie yearned for the love and comfort of a parent. It was almost a shock to her when one day – probably a month after her papa had died – that the Dowager Duchess of Redvers paid her a visit and had spent long hours, talking to her and fussing about her. After that, her mother-in-law had come to her almost every day, just making sure she was doing all right.

Although she and Lady Harrington had grown close, she hadn't told her mother-in-law about her pregnancy and miscarriage. Only she, Josh, Dr. Winters, and the servants knew about it. All had sworn to secrecy never to tell anyone about that.

"I guess, I do have nothing to do today. Thanks to a certain someone." She glared at Derrick when she said that.

He only grinned cheekily at her.

Trevor cleared his throat. "Will that be all, Your Grace?" He asked Derrick.

Derrick nodded. "Have the carriage ready for our drive to the countryside and that will be all."

With a stern "As you wish, Your Grace" and a bow, Trevor left the room.

When Derrick turned to Massie, she already stood up and was halfway to the door. "Where do you think are you going?" Derrick called to her, wondering if she was contemplating to escape.

Massie skidded to a halt and turned to him with a confused expression on her face. "I'm going to change into my walking dress." She sounded so bewildered that Derrick grinned.

"Oh, yes, I thought you were escaping." He told her.

She glared at him before she walked to the door and disappeared when it closed behind her.

Almost a quarter of an hour passed before Massie descended the steps of the townhouse, wearing an orchid-colored walking dress which accented her curves well. A matching bonnet fashioned her hair which was pulled to one side, showing off her long, flawless neck.

She looked absolutely beautiful, Derrick thought as he stood, waiting for her at the end of the staircase, looking all aristocratic yet casual in his walking attire. He looked dashing in his dark coat, bucksin trousers, his impeccably white neckcloth, and Hessian boots. His hair was ruggedly disarrayed as if he didn't own any combed. They gave the impression that he had spent less than half a minute to run his fingers through his fine locks. His dark hair reflected his personality: reckless.

"You look beautiful." Derrick murmured to her when she reached the end of the staircase. He took her hand and placed it around his arm.

Massie nodded in thanks. "You look fine as well, Derrick." She offered him in a formal tone.

Derrick simply chuckled which confused her but she didn't voice her bewilderment.

Together with her hand wedged around Derrick's arm, they went out of the house and descended the few steps to the carriage parked in front of the townhouse. Derrick handed Massie's hand to the footman so he could help her inside and he dismissed the footman before he followed Massie into the carriage.

Massie made room to accommodate Derrick who was bent on sitting beside her though the seat across them was obviously unoccupied. As Derrick plopped down beside her, he stretched his legs and relaxed while Massie was pressed against the corner of the carriage.

"Comfortable, aren't you?" Massie couldn't help but ask in a sarcastic tone.

Derrick glanced at her, grinned wolfishly at her, squished against the corner. "Pleasantly so. You?" He asked innocently.

Massie smiled ironically at him. "Immensely."

Derrick winked at her. "You can sit on my lap if you want to."

She rolled her eyes at him. "In your bloody dreams." Then she turned her head to admire the view out the window.

"Suit yourself then." Derrick replied, his voice halfway between being amused and forlorn, then he settled more comfortably on the seat beside Massie, looking out the window as she did.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence which bordered on comfortable yet filled with tension. Massie and Derrick did not talk to each other. They simply watched the view out the window as if the things they saw appealed to them so much that they couldn't remove their eyes from them.

As they remained in silence, both were preoccupied with their own thoughts.

Massie watched as they now left the urban city of sophisticated London and were now on the territory of the countryside. The scenery was beautiful, everything was so green and fresh. Massie felt like she was looking at an interpretation of heaven.

Yet no matter how exquisite – undeniably as it may be – the countryside was, its picturesque vision and the serene atmosphere that seemed to have seeped into the carriage, enveloping her still did not calm Massie's nerves, nor helped straighten her muddled thoughts.

She kept chastising herself for her outburst back in the dining hall of their townhouse. She had planned to be stubborn and show him that she did not need him in her life but what she didn't count on was how he responded. She thought he would become furious with her – being the impatient man that he was – the moment she started throwing insults at him and he would realize that he didn't need matrimonial drama in his life again so he would leave her alone. She expected him to shout back at her, match her tone. She presumed that once they started yelling at each other, they would end up in a fight that they had before which resulted into him leaving her. She honestly believed that he would meet her temper head-on and would leave once he realized that she would not back down.

She never thought he wouldn't live up to her expectations.

First, he did not become furious at her. Furious was too strong of word to describe his reaction to her. Irritated, most likely. Second, he never raised his voice at her. Once, he retorted but even his retort was said in a low tone which was far from the high shouting she had made. Even when Massie had insulted him and told him that he was callous and despicable and that he could not distinguish the difference between a woman with good-breeding from a woman who only knew how to breed good. Third and the most definitely shocking of all, he stayed. He hadn't left her the moment she started egged his temper. Before, the slightest hint to a tantrum or a fight, he had always left the townhouse and come back until she was asleep and leave early the next morning.

The facts that he had kept a firm hold on his temper and he had stayed only baffled her more and increased the turmoil that was going on in her head ten-fold.

Massie groaned inwardly.

"Are you all right?" Derrick suddenly asked her.

Massie turned to look at him, wondering why he was asking her that.

Derrick read the incomprehension in Massie's eyes and sighed. "You groaned." He explained.

Massie's eyes widened and she gasped in shocked. She just realized that she had groaned out loud. "I – um – the ride is making me queasy." She told him and turned her back to him, her eyes watching the trees pass by out the window.

Derrick didn't buy her explanation but he didn't push her to telling him the truth either. He returned to looking out the window, too. And frowned.

Massie was more different than he had expected her to be upon seeing her again. The changes in her – not only the physical ones but also the mental and emotional ones – went deeper than what he had imagined. Something bad happened to her while he had been gone. Something that had caused her to reevaluate her life and decide that she needed to change herself. Some dreadful incident that had forced her to bottle up all her emotions inside her and only show the emotions that she wanted people to see. She functioned like a bloody robot. She would laugh when called for. She would smile civilly when needed. She seemed bent on keeping all her relationships formal and business-like.

_With exception to Josh, of course, _a small nagging voice told Derrick which only made him furious. He felt his hands clench into fists at his sides yet caught himself. He calmed himself down and let his fists relax. As he tried to unwind the jealousy – yes, he acknowledged the strange feeling now – that he felt, he turned to Massie, an impulsive movement on his part.

He grinned when his eyes fell on her.

His wife was sleeping, the side of her head leaning against the window frame. Since the curtains were drawn to the side, half of her face was exposed to the glistening sun. He had only noticed that when under the sun, her face glowed and her hair had streaks of rust. The contrast against her golden skin was spectacular. His eyes followed the lines from her forehead to her well-proportioned nose, and to her rosy lips which must have been carved by all the gods and goddesses. He wanted to trace those jewels with his finger.

Unconsciously, his forefinger reached out to touch her lips. Just when his finger was only a breath away from her lips, the carriage grumbled as it passed on the rocky road.

Massie woke with a jolt. Derrick immediately pulled his finger away.

"What happened?" She seemed disoriented.

Derrick thought about playing with her but he discarded the idea as soon as it occurred to him. "Rocky road." He mumbled his reply.

Massie yawned, a very unladylike action that caused Derrick to turn to her just as her hand whipped out to cover her mouth. "I'm sorry." She said, rubbing her eyes. "How long have I been asleep?"

He was watching her lips when he replied. "Not long."

Massie stared back at him with a confused expression. "Oh." Why was he grumbling? Grumpy old man, she thought.

Then the carriage stopped and she peeked out of the window.

Ah. Finally. Redvers Park.

It looked absolutely like heaven.

The footman opened the door and Derrick went out first. He offered his hand to Massie and she placed her own on top of his, allowing him to help her out of the vehicle. Letting go of Derrick's hand, Massie straightened her hair, fixed her bonnet, and dusted off the few dusts that had gathered on her dress from the ride.

While Massie fixed and dusted herself off, Derrick turned and saw that a few people were waiting for them by the steps in front huge brass double front doors. Among these people were his mother who was looking absolutely radiant in her blue dress, her lady's maid: Skinner, their butler: Sterns, and surprisingly, Josh.

"Damn it." He muttered.

Massie looked up from what she was doing when Derrick suddenly cursed and followed the line of his sight. She saw that a small assembly was waiting for them. She spotted Josh who was trying to catch her eye.

She smiled at him and waved. He returned the gesture with his boyish grin and a conspiratorial wink.

Massie made her move to walk to Josh when Derrick caught her arm and slipped it around his. Massie glanced up at him but he was staring at Josh with an unfathomable expression. Massie decided to play along and let Derrick lead her to his mother and the others.

"Derrick! Massie!" Hannah, the Dowager Duchess of Redvers, squealed in delight and kissed Derrick on the cheek as the couple reached her. She did the same with Massie and then she hugged them both. "I missed you, children, so much. Especially you, Massie."

Derrick pouted at his mother. "How about me, _Maman_? Didn't you miss me?"

Hannah glared at him in mock rebuke. "I haven't forgiven you yet for suddenly leaving without a word." She softened her reprimand with a pat on Derrick's cheek. "Never do that again, Derrick, or I'll hunt you down myself."

Derrick laughed out loud. "You? You can't tell the difference between left and right and you're threatening to hunt me down."

The others also laughed at what he said, even Massie cracked a small smile.

But the beautiful dowager duchess glowered at them all until they all fell silent.

Then Derrick's eyes wandered and met Josh's. He gave his friend a tight smile. "Josh. It's nice for you to join us." He told him.

Josh smiled at him, looking amused as if he knew Derrick felt the opposite of what he said. "Well, your _Maman _sent me an invite and I had to visit my father's estate here so I didn't see a problem with accepting her invitation."

Before Derrick could answer, Hannah stepped to Josh's side and slipped her arm around Josh's. "Wasn't it nice for him to come? When I heard that you were back, I thought that it would be nice to get together with some of your friends. I invited Cameron and Christopher, too, but Christopher's in France."

"Cam's coming?" Derrick asked. "Did you get to invite Alicia, too?"

Hannah nodded when her son asked about Cam but Alicia's name came up, the dowager duchess frowned. "I didn't send her an invite." She said. "I never liked her. She's just so… eccentric."

Despite the tension between Derrick and Josh, they both burst into laughter while Massie fought the urge to laugh along. Though she allowed a smile.

"No one has ever called Alicia 'eccentric', Hannah." Josh remarked and Derrick added, "Such adjective would be treated as a blasphemy when referring to her."

Hannah blushed. "Oh, hush, you two." When the men continued chuckling, Hannah pinched them both.

"_Ow!_" Josh exclaimed, rubbing his arm.

"Bloody hell!" Derrick screeched, massaging his shoulder where his mother had pinched him.

That got a reaction from Massie. She laughed out loud and covered her mouth though she did not stop chuckling. "I'm so sorry." She gasped. "You two look so…" she didn't continue.

Both men stared incredulously at her.

Hannah smiled at her and joined her in cackling at the foolish expressions on Derrick and Josh's faces. "Come on, dear." She told Massie, pulling her to her side. "Let's get inside. Lunch is ready already." The women started for the house. "Now, I specifically remember that you loved my marzipan pie?"

They went past the open front doors which were held by Sterns and another servant for them.

Derrick and Josh glanced at each other.

"I've been meaning to talk to you, Derrick." Josh said in a serious tone. Adding the fact that he called him his Christian name which Josh only referred to him when addressing a significant matter, Derrick guessed and already knew what it was about.

Derrick nodded. "Yes. I agree but let's put that aside for later." There was a hint of finality in his voice.

Josh also nodded back. "All right but don't think I'll be forgetting it."

Derrick half-grinned at him. "I bet you won't, brother."

The notorious duke and the equally infamous viscount shared a look which they alone could only decipher.

The afternoon was going to be interesting and deliciously entertaining, all right.

* * *

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! :) The next following chapters are going to be exciting and I'm jumping with anticipation on posting them and seeing what you would say. Arg. I'm so excited :D**

**If you're wondering why Massie doesn't take coffee anymore, you will enlightened in the next chapters. So do stay tuned!**

**As always, REVIEW! I would really love it if you can show Play With Fire the same support you showed in Sweet Revenge. Haha. *nudge nudge* ;)  
**


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Lunch was a… rather pleasant affair if Massie might say so.

The dowager duchess overdid herself again in the menu and the Italian table set up at the estate's back lawn was overflowed with food. There was seafood, meat, poultry, vegetables, and fruits. And every meal was taken from the dowager duchess's personal recipe book.

The set-up – with trees surrounding the estates, the sound of water of the pond just behind the thick mass of trees on the farthest area of the back lawn, the sun high and shining over them, birds chirping, the air just perfect – contributed to the wonderful luncheon that they had.

Hannah had taken upon herself to invite some of her closest friends to their little gathering and the added guests filled the long dining table. At the head of table sat Derrick while his mother sat across him. As Derrick's wife and therefore, the current Duchess of Redvers, Massie sat on Derrick's right while the second highest title present who was the Marquis of St. James sat on his left. Next to Massie was the Viscount of Bathurst and the lesser titles occupied the rest of the vacant seats. Present were Lady Canterbury and her daughter, Roxanne, who was currently in her first Season in society; the Countess of Sherringham with her daughter, Lorraine, and son, Landon; Lady Malleson and her daughters, Penelope and Phoebe; and Lady St. Austell and her son, Charles.

In a simpler, more definite description, lunch was a buoyant affair filled with entertaining conversations accompanied by a scrumptious banquet.

As lunch slowly but wonderfully passed by, Massie felt her guard gradually falling down, unable to resist the warmth the big company provided her. She soon found herself enjoying the conversations and laughing with the others in a genuine manner that she herself felt wonderful of letting herself loose for a long time.

Presently, Derrick was talking about his adventures in Africa and everyone was engrossed with his story. He had a way with him that simply poked people's attention and cajoled them to listen attentively to him as if he were the only one in the world. Almost absentmindedly, Massie let her eyes wander over the others. She inwardly scoffed at the looks of awe and pure admiration on the faces of the young ladies who had been relentless in their quest to attract her husband's attention the moment they first arrived and joined the little gathering at the back lawn.

_Innocent chits_, Massie thought and let her eyes drift to the others. When her eyes had passed by Charles, Lady St. Austell's son, she caught him staring almost rudely at her. Same was Landon. Both young men were too busy staring – more like, leering at her that they didn't notice her noticing. Massie shook her head to herself and moved on to the others.

Nothing interesting on the other guests' faces – aside from the ridiculous love-struck look in their eyes as they gazed at her husband – until her eyes drifted to the Marquis of St. James who appeared like he was waiting for her to meet his gaze.

Massie offered him a cordial smile.

He winked at her – which confused Massie.

Blushing, she looked away and concentrated on what Derrick was saying.

"It was one of the most beautiful countries I have been to." Derrick said, finishing his narration.

Everyone broke into applause.

"That was amazing, Derrick!" Her mother told him. "I do believe I am quite intrigued at the prospect of paying Africa a visit in the near future."

Derrick chuckled. "I'll bring you there sometime, _Maman_." He said before he glanced at Massie in a way that made her feel that she was included in his plans of visiting Africa with his mother.

"Tell us another, Derrick!" Phoebe Malleson requested and was seconded by the other guests.

Derrick smiled at them. "I would love to but I think it's time to get up, don't you think so? I believe I fancy a glass of whiskey."

Hannah looked at him disapprovingly. "It's the middle of the day, Derrick. It's too early for you to drink."

"_Maman,_ you baby me too much. I'm twenty-seven and I can hold my liquor." He stood up from the table and looked at the men and young men present. "Care to join me, gentlemen?"

"Sure, why not?" Cam replied, also standing up. "Are you coming, Josh?"

Josh nodded and also stood up.

"Landon? Charles?" Derrick glanced at the two young men whom he had noticed had been stealing impolite glances at his wife. He felt like punching the crude out of the two but custom called for him to be courteous so he didn't have any choice but to invite them over whiskey as well.

Charles and Landon glanced at each other and shook their heads. "We'll stay behind, my lords." Charles spoke for them.

Derrick gave them a nod and turned to his wife. "We'll be at the library if you'll come and look for me, darling." He informed Massie before he, together with St. James and Bathurst, headed for his late father's library.

Josh glanced back at Massie as he was about to enter the house. "_Will you be okay_?" His eyes asked her.

Massie gave him a reassuring smile and waved him off to follow the others.

She turned back to the remaining guests seated around the table and she inwardly groaned as the women started talking about the latest gossips in the _ton_.

Yes. She will definitely be okay.

Massie had excused herself after a few tedious – well, on her part, that is – conversations about fashion, gossip and who was dallying with whom. The two young men who had surprisingly declined the older men's invitation to join them at the library and stayed behind to silently listen to the women's chatter stood up when she did and offered to accompany her. Massie cringed at the idea of them coming with her yet she politely declined their offer and even gave them a smile. Needless to say, Landon and Charles reluctantly took their seats albeit the expression on their faces showed their disappointment.

Massie sighed in relief as she walked away from the group.

She made her way to the well-developed garden at one side of the lawn and was concealed behind tall bush walls and a brass door. There was no roof concealing the garden from the sun, therefore not depraving them their natural needs. If one stood from the balcony of the mansion, he would see the garden from there.

Nonetheless, Massie enjoyed the feeling of privacy of the garden.

Upon reaching the door, she opened it and entered without a moment's hesitation.

She instantly felt like she was in heaven.

There were flowers everywhere, in every color. There were butterflies and birds flying around the place. Sunlight added even more to the beauty of the place. There were trees also and there were lanterns on the branches which gave light to the garden during the night. A stone path led to the certain of the garden where the biggest and oldest tree was found at.

That was where her destination was.

Leisurely ambling along the stone pathway, Massie indulged herself with the scenic view around her. When she reached the center, she marveled at the beauty of the huge tree in front of her. It indeed was beautiful. When she first came to the Park and found the garden, she spent an hour simply standing there and staring at the big tree which now looked a bit older than the first time she visited the place. Under the protection and shade of the thick leaves and branches of the trees nestled an old bench which had an appearance of being there for centuries now. Unable to resist the allure it held to her, Massie made her way to the bench and sat on it.

With her hands tucked beneath each other on her lap and her back straight as a lance, her eyes travelling languidly around the place, the young and breathtakingly beautiful duchess fit perfectly right in the paradise she was surrounded by.

Yet inside the young woman's mind, her thoughts were in complete tumult.

She liked how her life was when Derrick wasn't there. Although she knew that she lived her life like a businesswoman, always thinking before acting, always being methodical and thorough, and always keeping things neutral and not personal, she was contented with it. She'd found that life such as that was simpler and less- complicated. All she cared about was her business. The first thought that entered her mind every morning was business and the last thought that passed her before she sleeps at night was still business. For the past years, she had lived her life making other's easier, more comfortable and better. The commercial steamboat which took care of travelers' comfort and safety, the hospitals which she helped construct without any fee – even lending her people to help with the construction and donating medicines and equipments – to ensure that the hospital would be trustworthy and equipped to take care of patients, the numerous education she had been funding so that children who didn't have the financial capabilities to attend school would be given the chance to do so and give their family a better life, the museum she had just put up which was in fact a charity for the youth who wanted to prove themselves to the world through arts, the other institutions she had funded and the many people whom she helped through hiring them as an addition to her staff at the townhouse or her family's countryhouse or at her businesses.

Indeed she had helped people in making their lives better and thus making them happier. Albeit she never thought or took care of herself, she was satisfied with how her life ran.

Well, at least, until now when Derrick persistently insisted his existence in her life.

She could see how he had changed. He seemed… different than he was before. He made her think he had matured. Sometimes on some unguarded moment, she would find herself smiling at his jokes, chuckling at his stories and even on her _least _unguarded moment, wondering how her life would be if she would give him another chance and fix the marriage that had started on the wrong page of the book.

She despised those unguarded moments.

She could _never_ give him another chance because a lot of unpleasant things had happened already. She could _never _forgive him because of what he did to her, especially about her pregnancy. She could never forgive him about that. Yes, he was unaware of that – of her carrying their first born – but he would have been if he had not acted like the immature prick that he was and left. If he had only stayed and at least tried to patch the holes between them, they would have been happy now and their baby would be four already.

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. Massie felt the moisture pass her cheek and drop to her dress.

"I'm pathetic." She murmured to herself with a small chuckle as she wiped her tear-stained cheek with her hand.

"_Je mendie pour être en désaccord _." A familiar soft voice sounded from the other side of the tree. "You're beautiful."

Massie jumped up in shock and glanced at the other side of the tree at who had interrupted her. "Cam!" She said in relief as she sat back down on the bench. Her hand went to her heart to calm its fast beat. "You scared me!"

The Marquis of St. James chuckled and walked to sit beside her. "I apologize but you seemed a bit preoccupied. I didn't want to interrupt you."

"Well, you did interrupt me." She murmured.

"I'm sorry. Should I leave?" He asked.

Massie glanced at him and hastily shook her head, realizing that she had sounded rude. "No, no! I'm sorry. You just took me off-guard." Then she glanced away from his stare which was making her uncomfortable and stared at the butterfly flying around a white rose a few feet from them. "I thought you were having a drink with Josh and Derrick at the library."

"Ah, yes, I was but I sensed that they both wanted me out."

She glanced back at him, her eyebrow raised in question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, they wished to talk to each other in private." He said.

She seemed even more confused. "But you three are friends. I believe you can talk to each other about anything. Surely, you misunderstood."

He shook his head. "_Non, ma chèrie. _They did want me to leave."

"But whatever would they discuss that they couldn't with you present?"

He leaned closer. "Surely you already know the answer to that question." He whispered and then simply stayed there, staring at her eyes.

_If he moves closer, we'll be kissing_, was the thought that entered Massie's mind.

The notion shook Massie but not from anticipation. It was from fear. She did not know why but the close proximity to Cam made her feel anxious. There was an aura of danger surrounding the handsome man. Massie suddenly pulled away and looked back at the bush of white roses a few feet in front of them. "Huh." Was her only reply.

Cam grinned secretly but leaned away from her, following her line of vision. "Congratulations to the successful opening of your museum, by the way, Massie." He said nonchalantly after a few seconds.

The change of topic was not lost in Massie but she ignored it. She guessed he was trying to make a friendly conversation with her. "Thank you. Did you stay long?" She asked, still not looking at him.

"Not too long. I caught up with a few acquaintances for an hour then I left. I looked at the paintings and found some I'm interested in buying."

That statement made Massie look at him with excitement in her eyes. "Really?"

Cam nodded. "Yes. There were three, to be exact. The one with the mother and her child, and the painting of the Thames River."

Massie grinned broadly at him, apparently agreeing with his choices. "You said you found three? But you only mentioned two. What's the other one?"

This time Cam smiled that rascal grin of his. "The one of the naked brunette woman with long legs lying across a red chaise."

His voice had gone low and almost husky and his eyes seemed to have darkened but Massie ignored them and simply smiled. "Oh, yes, that indeed is a spectacular painting." She was excited at the prospect of selling three paintings to him knowing that he would be paying a large sum. She couldn't wait to tell the young painters about this. She knew they would be beyond ecstatic.

And they talked more about the different painting in her museum.

A few minutes have passed since Cam left the library and the silence and tension in the room was nothing but _deafening_.

Seated across each other with Derrick behind the desk and Josh in front of him, both aristocrats toyed absentmindedly with their glass of whiskey, each absorbed in their own thoughts. The only sound that could be heard inside the place was the voices of merrymaking at the lawn which was directly below them. Other than that, there was nothing else.

Derrick didn't know what to say. Josh had been his best friend – even brother – since they were five and they have gone through every chapter of their life together. He had always felt he could tell Josh anything. Other than his mother, Josh knew him best. Josh was the more perceptive between them while he, Derrick, was the more aggressive and rash. So he wanted to confide to him the puzzling emotions he was feeling for his wife but due to current circumstances where Josh harbored more-than-my-best-friend's-wife feelings for his wife, he couldn't stomach the idea of telling his wife's lover those feelings which he could use against Derrick.

Besides that, he felt having this talk with Josh was bullshit. Massie was _his _wife, for fuck's sake, and he should simply tell him to stay away from his wife. Period. End of story.

With that decision in mind, Derrick started to speak but Josh cut him off.

"I love her."

To say that the duke was shocked at the viscount's admission was the understatement of the century. He assumed that the feelings Josh had for Massie bordered around lust. Never in Derrick's mind had the thought of his best friend actually being in love with his occurred to him. It was the last thing in his mind.

"What did you say?" He asked again, his voice still not absorbing what Josh said.

Josh raised his eyes and met his eyes. "You heard me right. I said I'm in love with her and I mean to have her. I don't mean to simply have her in my bed. I'm taking her away from you. Forever." Genuine threat echoed his every word.

Word after word, Derrick's hand curled into a fist around the glass he was holding but he caught himself when his grip tightened enough to break it into pieces. He let go of the glass. "You're in love with _my _wife?" The words were tight and measured but Josh heard the fury in them.

He grinned stonily. "You're only married to her in papers. You never loved her but I do and I'll do everything so you can never hurt her again."

That snapped Derrick off. "You son of a bitch! Do you think I'll give you my blessing to fuck my wife?" Derrick suddenly stood up from his chair that it toppled over and he grabbed Josh by his neckcloth, raising his fist to prepare to land a punch on Josh's face.

"You can't give her anything." His words were plainly said, his eyes mocking. "She doesn't want money, status, or a good fuck. She has never been that kind of woman. You'll only hurt her." Josh chuckled darkly. "Christ, that's all you've ever given her. Pain. Come on. Hit me. Come on, Redvers. Hit me and it still won't make a difference. I'm taking her away from you with or without a head."

Both gentlemen glared at each other. Derrick's eyes narrowed into slits until his pupils were no longer visible. They were like two bulls of the same field, waiting for the other to land the first punch which would commence the fracas. Known as someone with a vile temper which even Zeus himself could not stop, Derrick lowered his fist and released him from his murderous grip on his neck, shocking Josh who expecting a brawl to take place. It was simply the way they deal with confrontation albeit never before had they been in a fight against each other.

Josh remained standing and watched, massaging his neck, as Derrick took his anger out on the desk. He angrily shoved the papers including the glass of half-filled whiskey to floor. The papers scattered on the ground while the glass shattered into millions of pieces when it hit the floor. Then he punched the desk with his fists.

Something about the way Derrick acted to what he said made Josh contemplate and study him more studiously. Something about this wasn't right. Something about his reaction told Josh that he was tormented with the idea of losing Massie. If it was just because of sex, he wouldn't have acted so strongly. If it was just for that, he could come to all brothels in London and get what he wanted. No, something was amiss.

Josh turned from Derrick and walked over to where the liquor cabinet was. He took a glass for Derrick and a bottle of whiskey then brought it over to the desk. He took his seat and poured Derrick and himself a glass of the strong liquor. He pushed the other glass to Derrick which he deftly caught in his hand and together they drank half of the glass.

"Bloody hell." Josh muttered as he felt the alcohol travelling his veins.

"What you said was right, you know." Derrick began, studying the glass and shaking the liquor lightly inside it. "She already has the money, the status, and she could get a lover for her personal needs. She's not like the chit I married four years ago. She's as stubborn as I am. She's got a vicious temper which could set the entire forest into fire. She thinks of everything as a business proposition. She makes it crystal-clear that she doesn't want me back in her life. She's so infuriating that I feel like drowning myself in the Thames."

Josh did not look at Derrick as he spoke, feeling that his friend was already uncomfortable of telling him those.

"But I can't make myself turn around when she's there. I think I've never seen such a beautiful creature and I think I never will. Do you remember when we went to Greece when we were 18? We came to that exclusive brothel which only houses the beautiful women and the Madam gave me Freda who she claimed was the most beautiful among her girls. I thought she was an angel sent by the devil to tease me."

Josh grinned, remembering that time. "We stayed for a month there because you couldn't get enough of her."

Derrick also grinned. "I never thought I'll meet someone who could be more beautiful than her but then I came back and found my wife who is Circe incarnate!" Derrick shook his head in spite of himself. "She's so beautiful. Especially when she's furious. Did you know the color of her eyes turns to black when she's in a fit?" He glanced at Josh with an amazed grin.

Josh laughed genuinely. "Yes, I know. She reminds me of a bear."

Both of them laughed this time.

"What are you trying to say?" Josh asked after a moment of silence.

Derrick sighed, drinking what's left of his whiskey. "I've got feelings for her. Feelings which are so foreign to me so I cannot identify them. I don't know about love. I think that's a strong word but I have… beguiling feelings for her." Then he looked up and stared at Josh who stared back at him. "I'm not letting her go, Josh, and I'm not leaving her, not this time and not ever."

Josh studied him for awhile. Derrick met his steady probing gaze with one of his own. A few unblinking moments passed wherein both men tested the solemnity of the other.

Josh stood up. "I'm honored that you told me those… things." He said.

Derrick cracked a smile. "I knew you would understand. I -"

But Josh held up one hand to halt him. "But there's one other thing I have to tell you."

"What?"

Josh turned around and headed for the door. As he opened the French doors, he glanced back at his puzzled friend and said with a mischievous grin, "_Vous êtes mieux prêt pour un défi, un frère, parce que je ne donnerai pas en sans un combat_."

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! :)) Questions will be answered on the next chapter because I'm quite in a hurry right now. :D**

**Notes to Chapter 13:**

**1) "_Vous êtes mieux prêt pour un défi, un frère, parce que je ne donnerai pas en sans un combat_" – French for "You better be ready for a challenge, brother, because I won't give up without a fight"**

**2) _Non, ma chèrie _– French for "No, my darling"**

**3) _Je mendie pour être en désaccord - _French for "I beg to disagree"**

**Don't forget to leave a review! :D  
**


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Oh, my! That was simply hysterical!" Massie couldn't help but laugh and relax under Cam's inborn charm and his applauded sense of humor. Their conversations had started with her being stiff and holding dearly on her mask of disinterest when the topic drifted on to a less professional essence but Cam remained patient and generous, bent on making her laugh and draw down her inner drawbridge and soon, albeit still a bit wary, Massie had relaxed and found herself easily laughing at his wonderful attempts of amusing her.

"I daresay I have to agree, my dear." Cam murmured. "The look on Lady Belbany's face was simply… priceless."

Massie covered her mouth with her hand trying to seize her laughter. Cam had been telling her stories about the haut ton. He had just finished telling her about the Baron of Saxton's wife, Lady Patricia Belbany – Baroness of Saxton's tea party a week ago when he was forced to attend because the baron himself invited him for an afternoon of equestrian games with some other gentlemen which was held at Saxton Manor's horseback riding field. The ladies were lounging at one side, well away from the men who were already ready to start the competition, when Lord Debbington – a young awkward lord who stuttered and fluttered at the slightest complication – lost control of his horse's reins and sent them flying towards where the ladies were. He and his horse toppled the tea table over and caused one of the baroness's servants to spill warm tea all over the baroness in her panic. The baroness was so furious that she sputtered and demanded for her husband to forbid Lord Debbington future entrance in their houses. Then the agitated baroness turned on her heel and marched off to their manor.

Unbeknownst to her, the back of her dress was covered with dirt and her hair was ruffled that she looked like she had been living with the horses for a couple of months.

Her guests did not take her wrath seriously and even found humor in the situation. From then on, the private joke about the Baroness of Saxton's quarters in the stable was born.

Massie had laughed so hard that tears were pouring down her face. "Oh, you're such an insensitive rascal. Poor Lady Belbany. No wonder I haven't seen her in any of the ton's parties."

Cam glanced at her and flashed his famous wolfish grin. "Haven't you heard I'm a sensitive rascal, my dear? My purpose in life is to find a damsel in distress and scoop her into a world of oblivion."

Massie chuckled without looking at him. "I'm sure you do."

His grin broadening, Cam leaned closer. "You want to be that damsel, _chèrie_?"

Eyes widening, Massie's head snapped to him and she instantly found him suddenly and terribly close to her. "Now you're being funny."

Cam shook his head. "I can assure you, _ma douce_, that I am not."

Massie forced a laugh, trying to lighten the mood and steer Cam away.

Hiding a smile, Cam leaned away from her. "I notice things between you and Derrick are working out." He commented in a nonchalant voice.

Massie stilled at his observation but she cleared her throat. "Um, I guess so." She fidgeted with the laces on her skirt. She glanced at Cam who had his eyes closed now, wondering what was going on in his mind.

As if he felt her gaze on him, he opened his eyes and turned to meet hers. They were suddenly a shade darker than his normal eye color. Massie wondered why. "If ever you need someone to talk to, you can come to me. I'll make you feel better." The innuendo was faintly there in his words but the tone he used was laced with malicious suggestion.

"Massie!"

Both Cam and Massie turned to the pathway from the entrance of the garden and found Josh walking towards them. More like, stomping his way towards them. As soon as he was close enough to them, Massie saw the hard glint in his eyes, the firm set of his jaw and his tightly balled fist at his sides, and recognized it. He was furious, apparently, at what she wasn't sure. She assumed he had an argument with Derrick. Oh, dear, she hoped not. She hoped Josh did not champion her again.

Anxious, she stood up, forgetting Cam altogether. "Josh!" She walked to meet him halfway. "What's wrong?"

But Josh was not listening to her. Or even looking at her. His eyes were fixed – and so his wrath, it appeared to her – entirely at the handsome, leisurely sitting man on the bench.

"Wait for me outside. I'll just have a word with Cam." Josh told her. When he felt her hesitation, he glanced down at her and gave her a reassuring smile albeit small and forced. "I won't be long. We'll just have a friendly chat."

Raising her eyebrow fractionally, she nodded and turned to leave the garden. Josh waited for the wooden door to make the sound indicating she had already left and was out of earshot and when he heard the door closing and her footsteps fading, he turned back to Cam who still looked relaxed, smiling, and appeared completely oblivious of Josh who was glaring daggers at him.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about, my friend?" Cam asked nonchalantly as he stood up and went to lean against the trunk of the tree beside the bench.

Josh moved so swiftly that Cam, despite having an impressive military background, didn't anticipate it. One second Josh was standing six steps from him and the next second he had already pinned Cam forcefully against the trunk of the big tree.

"Listen, you goddamn son of a bitch, if I ever see you hitting on Massie again, I'll cut your balls off." Josh snarled.

Cam laughed. "Touchy, aren't we? She didn't appear like she minded me and my charms. You're clearly overreacting, my friend. And I didn't mean to keep her to myself. I could share her with you. Derrick won't absolutely mind. Just like old times, eh, brother?" He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously at Josh.

Josh growled and shoved him once again against the trunk. "I'll warn you again, Cam, and don't make me repeat myself. Leave Massie the hell alone and you'll keep your balls." With that, he let go of him after giving him one painful push against the tree, leaving him kneeling on the ground catching his breath, and Josh walked away.

"Don't pretend to be a saint, Bathurst!" Cam shouted after him. "You want her, too! It pisses you off that you can't have her!"

Josh reached the wooden door, opened it and closed the door without a word.

He paused just outside the closed garden, taking the moment to let his anger wane. The moment he stepped inside the garden and saw Cam so close to Massie, he felt the initial anger swelling inside him. When he got close enough to hear what Cam was saying to Massie which made her uncomfortable, the anger grew into full-blown fury. He was even slightly amazed with himself when he still found the composure to tell Massie to wait for him outside and to give her a reassuring smile because the only thought that floated in his mind that time was to rip Cam's arms off from his body. He ignored the fact that it was his best friend there. What he just considered was he was flirting with Massie and was clearly making her discomfort.

"So have you settled whatever you have with Cam?" Massie's voice and the awareness of her worried gaze on his face pulled him away from his thoughts.

He hadn't seen her when he came out of the garden but she was standing just a few feet from him, leaning against the tree outside the garden. He shoved his anger away for later and plastered a pleasant smile on his face before he made his way to her. "Yes. It was just something between us men." He vaguely told her before he offered his arm. "Let's take a stroll around the lawn, shall we?"

With only one moment of hesitation, Massie placed her hand around his elbow and ambled along the path around the vast lawn.

"Where are the others?" Massie asked.

"They retired to the drawing room." Josh told her. "I met them when I was on my way to the garden. I think I remember Lady Malleson boasting about her Phoebe's talent with the piano and Penelope's vocal skills. So I assume they're now engrossed in the sisters' musical performance."

"Ah." Massie murmured. "I didn't know the Malleson sisters were talented."

She didn't know why but somehow her comment caused Josh amusement because he broke into a guffaw. "What now?" Massie turned to him, skidding into a halt, and glared.

Retaking her hand, he couldn't their walk and forced himself to stop his laughter and settle for a small grin. "You have no idea what other talents those two possess."

Logic and experience taught Massie not to question him anymore. "I'm not talking to you anymore." Massie mocked snapped at him which only made him laugh again.

They walked for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence. They ambled along the pebble-and-sand pathway which extended far away and led towards the fields and stables. Massie's arm remained platonically locked around Josh's arm and she enjoyed the feeling of the outdoors. The warm breeze, the faint smell of a creek, the aroma of flowers, and the sounds of nature. She missed this.

It was a few more minutes later but Josh finally broke the silence.

"I had a talk with Derrick."

"Yes, I know." She said. "Cam whined that you and Derrick tossed him out."

"Did he now?" But his voice sounded clipped and irritated, his previous resentment to Cam coming back to him.

Massie cast him a sidelong glance. "Indeed. What's gotten into you, Josh? Your face seems flushed."

"I don't really get it, Massie." He muttered then he forced them to halt and turned to her. "Are you blind? He was blatantly hitting on you."

Massie's eyes widened and then they narrowed when she glared at him. "Joshua Nathaniel Hotz! You know what I hate the most is being shouted at. Calm yourself because I will not talk to you if you keep yelling at me."

Josh lowered his head a bit in shame. "I'm sorry but I didn't like the way he was looking at you or the way he was talking to you. It was too… familiar."

Massie surprised him by laughing which made Josh look sharply at her. "I don't think the current situation calls for your humor, Massie."

She laughed even harder when Josh looked insulted enough to walk away and leave her. "No, no, wait. I didn't mean to laugh at you." She stifled a laugh when he scoffed. "You're just too protective of me! I daresay you remind me of an overbearing control freak big brother, dear sir."

"Yes, well, I won't be acting like said brother if you did what I told you before and cut your face off so I won't be going along threatening every man who leers at you."

This time Massie didn't squelch her grin. She wrapped her arms around Josh and hugged him. "You're the best big brother I could never have." She paused to pull away and glare at him. "Even if you're annoying."

Josh's lips curved wickedly. Slowly, he stepped forward towards her in a predatory gait which instinctively made Massie step back.

"Annoying, you say, Your Grace?" Josh wiggled his eyebrows menacingly at her.

Massie read his intent in his eyes. She glared warningly at him. "Don't you dare."

"Insult Josh Hotz and suffer his wrath!" With that comment said so wickedly amusing, he lunged at her.

Massie squealed and ran away from him but when she glanced back, she saw that he was still just a foot behind her no matter how fast she ran from him.

Unbeknownst to them, a certain brooding young duke watched the innocent-enough spectacle from the window of the library.

Derrick watched as Josh chased Massie on the pathway. The sound of Massie's laughter echoed in his ears, gripped his heart, and turned his head upside down. Despite the distance, he heard her joyous sounds as if he were standing beside her.

There was no denying it now. He, Derrick James Harrington – 12th Duke of Redvers, was jealous. He, a young wealthy handsome nobleman who have never wanted anything because he had it all at his feet, was jealous of his best friend, of all people.

He hated the feeling. It slithered through his vein like poison, filling him with nothing but coldness and dread. It made him numb. He couldn't think of anything else other than the jealousy – the goddamned feeling – which consumed him and drained him of all sensible, logical, and practical thoughts.

Maybe pursuing his wife again was a terrible idea. Them being together and working it out and be a happy married couple was a nonsensical idea – something which only came true in dreams and fantasies. How he had come up of said idea at the first place was beyond him now.

He could see Massie had everything she wanted here now. Money, status, people who adored her to death, and a man who loved her with all his heart. Maybe the most logical thing to do now was for him to follow Massie's advice, get a legal separation – no matter how hard it was to get one of those – and just leave.

Maybe she would better off without him.

He was jarred out of his thoughts when Massie shrieked.

"Josh! Stop! You're killing me! Enough!" He faintly heard her.

He saw that Josh now had her by the waist and was tickling her side.

Derrick involuntarily grinned. "Huh. So she's ticklish." He was married to her and he never knew that. The fact that Josh knew such intimate secret did nothing to soothe his poor temper.

Derrick vaguely heard the door open and then the voice of his mother flowed in. "Derrick?"

"I'm here, _Maman_." He said without turning around from where he stood by the window.

"Ah, there you are, son." He could hear his mother's skirts scuffling towards him. "We've been wondering what's keeping… Ah." Understanding colored her tone as she stood beside Derrick and followed his line of sight. "I see why you've been so preoccupied that you didn't feel inclined to grace your mother your presence."

Derrick didn't say anything. Josh had already stopped tickling Massie and they were now laughing like children.

"They've gone really close, don't you think so?" Hannah absentmindedly said. "I've seen their progress. Josh usually came with Massie when she visited me. Sometimes I have to remind myself they're not brother and sister. Still, it's difficult to say. They're inseparable." Hannah chuckled.

"He's in love with her, _Maman_." Derrick said, his voice devoid of emotion.

His mother went quiet for a moment, just staring at the pair who was now walking slowly back to the house.

Then Hannah heaved a sigh. "I've known since the first time Massie visited after you left. It was two years ago, I think. Josh was with her. In every visit, he was present; attentive, protective, and sensitive to every thing about her." Hannah paused to stare meaningfully at Derrick. "That boy has never been able to hide anything from you. Just like you, dear. I know something else is bothering you. Now tell your _maman_ and I'll try my best to help you." She placed a comforting hand on his arm.

Derrick stiffened when his mother guessed his thoughts but he relaxed when she touched him. The familiar warmth his mother possessed which he had grown up with receiving all the time surrounded and enveloped him. He couldn't help but tell his parent who knew him best. "I've decided to leave her, _Maman_."

His mother gasped, taken aback by what he said. "You can't possibly leave her again!"

But Derrick shook his head, drawing his mother more puzzled than she already was. "I'm leaving her this time because I know it's for the better."

Feeling a headache coming to her from all the riddles Derrick had been saying, Hannah moved to sit on one of the armchairs by the fireplace. "Enlighten me, darling, on why you think leaving your wife again will be for the best."

Turning from his mother, he fixed his gaze once again on Massie and Josh who was closer to the house now despite their slow footsteps. "She has everything, _Maman_. She has money, a high place in society, well regarded by the beau monde, and she has someone who loves her with all his heart. What I can give her are the things that she can achieve on her own. What matters most to her, I cannot give."

"And what do you think matters most to her, dear, that you are not able to give her?" She knew what it was already but she wanted to hear it from him.

Derrick flinched at first and it took him a moment to answer. "Love." He said in a low voice. "I can't give her that. I don't even know how. Pleasure, yes, I can and will but she's not the kind of woman you can simply play with overnight and leave the next day. She's not some plaything I can summon then ask her to leave after the deed is done. With other women, I can be the rascal that I am but with her, I deem it's impossible to get away unscathed." He released a furious breath. "She's so unlike other women, _Maman_! She's beautiful, gentle, compassionate, intelligent yet she also has a temper that could set Hyde Park to a total conflagration, possesses a stubborn streak, picks for a fight every time we're together, and ever since I've returned, she has countermanded more of my requests than followed any." He whirled around, leaned against the windowpane, and raked his fingers through his hair. "God, she's so infuriating that I can't make up my mind if I want to strangle her or kiss her!"

Hannah chuckled. "I see that you've got a challenge in your hands."

Derrick snorted. "Challenge when describing dealing with my wife is an understatement, _Maman_. She's so different from the young woman I married four years ago. She's a complete enigma, one that drives me crazy and doesn't let me sleep until I solve her out."

"But you think she's happy?"

His mother's question surprised him at first but he came out of it. "I assume she is." Impulsively, he turned around to watch Massie and Josh already disappearing under the library which meant they were about to enter the house. He recalled the smile on Massie's face when she was talking with Josh and the sound of her laughter which he could hear despite the distance. Yes, she was happy. "She's happy. I'm sure of it."

"And why do you think so?"

Derrick turned slightly to glance at his mother. He gave her a what-do-you-think look. "I already explained why, _Maman_."

His mother met his glare with one of her own which, he had to admit, looked a bit like his. "Then repeat it."

He sighed, wondering where his mother was leading to. "She's already wealthy, admired and adored by the _ton_, and has a determined man who loves her endlessly."

Shifting on the armchair, Hannah heaved a long exaggerated sigh. "You, Harrington men, are indeed pigheaded. I thought since you had some of my blood, you'd be different." She shook her head almost to herself in exasperation.

Derrick turned to face her again, shocked at what she said. "What?"

The beautiful dowager duchess raised her head from the fireplace and glowered at him. "Your wife's not _entirely _happy, Derrick. Money, status, and even a devoted admirer do not make up her happiness." When Derrick continued to look puzzled, she sighed exasperatingly. "She loves you! I saw it in her eyes when she looked at you during luncheon when she thought no one was paying her any attention. It's the same look I have whenever I stare at your papa's portrait or whenever I remember him. She longs for you, son, but there's a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. What you have to do is to prove to her that you're certain about your feelings now for her."

"_Maman_, haven't you heard any of what I said?" Derrick looked equally exasperated. "That's the problem. I'm not certain of my… feelings for her. My mind is a cluttered room right now."

Hannah regarded him for awhile before she spoke. "Your eyes speak for your heart, son." She said with a soft smile. "You might not yet be able to identify those feelings because you refuse to acknowledge it. Open your heart and mind, Derrick. Embrace what your heart tells you and you'll find true happiness in the truth." With that said, she stood from the armchair. "Our guests would be leaving in an hour before dinner, dear. You, Massie and Josh are welcome to stay for the night if you wish to." She turned around and made her way towards the door. She had already opened the door when Derrick suddenly came out of his stupor.

"But she doesn't want me anymore, _Maman_. She made it more than clear to me a few times already."

Hannah glanced at the ceiling without turning to him. "Goodness, James, your son is denser than you are!" She murmured loud enough for Derrick to hear before she threw him a don't-waste-your-time glare and left the library.

It Derrick a few more minutes before he absorbed the meaning behind her peculiar statement.

He moved to sit on his seat and chuckled.

He loved his mother so much.

* * *

**Answers to your reviews:**

**_Ann ()_ - We'll get to the "action parts" soon. I don't even understand what kind of action you have in mind but if it's the action that's in my mind, well, then _soon_. :)**

**_Tram () - _"_Suggestion: in one scene derrick and massie are getting closer and closer to falling in love with each other again, to the point where they can't even talk to each other in a carriage because the can't keep their hands away from each other. " _HAHAHA! Lol. I'll consider your wonderfully explained suggestion. ;)**

**To everyone who are ready to rally outside my gates with pitchforks and torches because "Josh was supposed to tell Derrick about the pregnancy" - Derrick will know real real real real soon. So you have to stay tuned. All other questions will be answered then. ;)  
ASl**

**Notes to Chapter 14:**

**1) **_**chèrie – **_**French for "darling", can also be "dearie"**

**2) **_**ma douce **_**– French endearment which means "my soft one"**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter because the much-awaited confrontation is coming up! :D**


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

When Hannah entered the drawing room where the others were lounging at, her eyes immediately scanned her guests to look for her daughter-in-law. Spotting her standing by the window with Josh, Phoebe, Landon, Charles, and Penelope, Hannah pulled away from the doorway and strolled to where she was.

"Massie, darling," she greeted when she neared them. "Can I have a word with you?"

Albeit confused, Massie nodded and turned to the others to excuse herself. When everything necessary was said, she followed her mother-in-law out of the room.

"What is it you want to speak with me, _Maman_?" Hannah had personally asked her to treat her as if she were her real mother during one of her visits. The dowager duchess said that she had always wanted to have a daughter and having Massie as one was an honor and a delight to her.

"Derrick wishes to speak with you, dear." Hannah said and with a soft smile, she placed her hand on Massie's arm. "Hear out what he has to say with an open mind, child. Do this for me."

Massie nodded, fighting the urge to raise an eyebrow. She hadn't any clue what was going on. "Of course, _Maman_."

Her mother-in-law hugged her and pushed her lightly, urging her to go on. "He's in the library."

Massie nodded once again and made her way up the library.

She wondered what Derrick had told his mother that she personally came and fetched her. Hannah had looked excited which made her frown. Massie hoped Derrick didn't tell her anything about their fights and squabbles. To confide such petty arguments to his mother was beyond embarrassing since Massie knew that in most arguments she was acting irrational.

Upon reaching the second landing, she turned to the corridor leading to the library. She knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in." Derrick's voice called out.

Taking a deep breath, Massie opened the door and entered the room.

She saw her husband sitting behind the desk, a glass half-filled with whiskey clutched loosely in his hand. He was sprawled on the seat, looking brooding and distracted. His hair looked untidy and he had taken off his coat.

Focusing on their conversation would be next to hard if she had to stare at him who looked like so sinfully handsome.

When his eyes flew to her, Massie realized he wasn't expecting her because he swiftly let go of the glass and suddenly stood up that the desk shook slightly. "Massie!" He sounded surprised. "I thought it was my mother."

Standing uncertainly at the middle of the room, a few feet away from the desk, Massie fidgeted with her hands. "Your mother told me you wished to speak with me. Apparently, she misunderstood. I apologize if I bothered you. I'll just leave now." She turned around.

"No!" Derrick said loudly. "Stay. I mean, I do wish to speak with you."

Massie turned back to him again, raising an eyebrow. "You do?"

Derrick nodded. "Take a seat please." He cleared his throat when it sounded a bit croaked.

Massie stepped forward then halted. She eyed the two chairs in front of the desk and she knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate well if she had to sit directly across him. She also felt a bit claustrophobic inside the library. She felt contained. She decided she needed fresh air to help her keep a tight grip on her wits.

"Follow me." She told Derrick who raised an eyebrow in question. "We can talk better outside." Turning on her heel, she led the way through the French doors onto the paved terrace.

Hiding a relieved smile, Derrick followed at her heels.

So close that when she abruptly halfway across the wide terrace and swung to face him, he nearly mowed her down.

He stopped just in time, with no more than an inch between them, a bare inch separating her silk-clad breasts against his chest.

Looking down, he watched as the ivory mounds revealed by her low-cut bodice swelled and rose. But she didn't step back. Raising his gaze, first to her lips, fractionally parted, then to her eyes, her gaze disoriented, he realized she'd stopped breathing.

Dazedly, she blinked, then her gaze drifted to his lips.

Every instinct he possessed urged him to slide and arm about her, draw her against him, bend his head, and taste those luscious lips.

And counter her arguments with one of his own.

But…

Her pulse was racing, he sensed it – a primal knowledge he didn't think to question. Her eyes were darkened with desire yet there was still a glint of uncertainty there. His mother was right. She still wanted him but she was trying to figure out his intentions. If all his intentions were purely physical. Her mind was also a cluttered room, such as his, he realized.

She was highly, extremely – more than he'd ever known any woman to be – sensually aware of him. A highly passionate woman awakened once again, she'd fallen into his grasp and she would be his. No sooner than later, he was certain of it.

She was all but quivering; he felt the overwhelming urge to soothe as well as seize her.

_No, no, no_! The rational part of Massie's head screamed at her. That part of her told her to step back and move to the railing. She should put on her mask of disinterest again and proceed on having this conversation he wanted to have with her. She should shut that irrational part of her which urged her to step into Derrick's arms and press her lips to his. She should get this done and over with so she can leave and gather her wits before they return to London.

If she didn't start talking, she'll definitely fall into the devil's arms. Again.

"What is it you wished to discuss with me?" She tried to make her voice sound strong and businesslike but what came out was nothing more than a shaky whisper. She mentally slapped herself. Clearing her throat, she repeated her question though in a bit stronger voice.

Derrick's unfocused gaze fixed on her eyes and she was fascinated by how darker it became. She hadn't imagined eyes as dark as his could get any darker. It made him look more… mysterious.

With those sinful eyes probing hers, he spoke. "There are things in life that we can't express simply through words." He began in a soft voice. "Massie, I want you to know I sincerely want you back. Apparently, words cannot suffice them. But I do want you to know. I think this is the only way for you to hear me out." His arms went behind her, pulling her close, his head bending, his lips nearing.

Panic showed in Massie's eyes. Her hands went to his chest, pushing him. "Derrick, don't. This is not – _ummph_" Her last words were smothered by his lips.

_Heaven_. That was the word that entered Derrick's mind when his lips touched hers. The sweet taste of her lips drove him crazy. He kissed her, hard and demanding – coaxing her to respond. She stilled under his mouth when the first touch of their lips occurred. She refused to kiss him back. Unperturbed, Derrick tightened his hold around her waist and lifted her up to him, fitting him perfect as if they were missing pieces of the same puzzle.

A few seconds of his hot, insistent mouth demanding her to respond passed before he felt her mouth moving against him. He inwardly smiled. He nibbled on her soft lower lip, earning a moan from her. The hands on his chest tightened, pulling him tighter to her, demanding for more. He obliged her silent command and planted his lips firmly on top of her before he applied pressure on her lips, opening her mouth with his.

And then his tongue entered her sweet haven.

Teased. Probed. Explored. Devoured.

Derrick thought he had never tasted something as delectable and sincere such as her until her tongue touched his, though tentatively at first. Their tongues dueled and fought for the upper hand. It was a hot open-mouthed kiss which rendered them both witless and robbed them of their senses. Derrick thought nothing could be better than this until she drew his tongue in her mouth.

And sucked.

Primitive instinct drove Derrick and gripped him. He growled into her mouth, pulling her closer, plastering her against him like a second skin.

Massie's hands slid up from his chest and wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer and kissing him deeper.

Derrick poured his conflicting emotions into the kiss and conveyed it to her. He knew she was feeling it. She was quivering from the intensity of his emotions which were quite evident in his embrace and kiss.

Bodies fastened. Mouths fused. Tongues battled.

Into a sweltering dance of primitive need and instinct, desire and mixed emotions coursing through their veins. Its intensity could have burned the entire Harrington land and they still wouldn't have pulled away.

They were mindless and oblivious to anything but each other.

Eventually, they drew up for air. Still inches from each other, they were still locked in each other's arms.

"You understand now?" He breathed heavily, his breath on her face, his eyes on her, waiting for her to look at him.

Massie didn't know how to respond. She was still recovering from the powerful kiss they had shared. She was breathing hard and quivering slightly in his arms. She looked up into his eyes and shivered from the deep emotions she saw in them. _No, no, no_! Her mind was telling her. As the haziness and her dazed state slowly subsided, rational thoughts entered her mind. Her eyes widened as she realized what just took place and what she had just gambled. Suddenly, she started pushing against him.

He frowned, bewildered. "Massie, darling, it's okay." He tried soothing her, not letting her go.

"No, no." She sputtered. "Let me go. You don't understand."

"I do, darling. I felt it. I understand." He murmured. "Don't worry. I'm here. We'll deal with this together."

This time she started shoving him in earnest, breaking into sobs. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!" She thrashed in his arms, yelling like a madman.

Her fingers clawed at him in her attempt to make him let go of her. When she scratched him just below his eye, he involuntarily released her with curse. "Damn!" He muttered, feeling warm liquid ooze from her scratch. He caught her wrist when she attempted to flee. "Calm down, Massie! Damn it, stop shouting!"

This was going exactly the opposite he had in mind.

Massie kept struggling against his hold while her other hand tried to reach and punch him. He deftly avoided those.

"I don't want to see you anymore!" She shouted. "You have made my life a living hell ever since you arrived! I don't understand why you can't get it! I don't want to have anything to do with you. Not now, not ever! I despise men like you! You never care about other people! You don't care if you hurt people! You only care about yourself and your own needs! I don't need you back in my life! So leave me the hell alone!"

Derrick's eyes narrowed to slits even though he tried hard not to let her words get to him. He captured her hand that was poking him on his chest in a steel-like grip which made her wince though she tried to cover that. He lowered his face dangerously close to hers and was pleased to see that his action evoked a certain fear – though only small and she tried her best not to show it – from her. "You say you despise men like me?"

She did not answer but merely glared at him. The saying "if looks could kill" entered his mind.

Derrick tightened his grip on her wrist. "You said you despise men like me. You said that, didn't you?" He asked in a low, threatening voice. When she didn't answer, he twisted her wrist a bit but enough to make her wince. "Didn't you?"

She looked up at him and the loathing and hatred in them was so stark that it gripped him for a moment. "Go to hell."

He threw his head back and laughed – a dark, menacing laugh that made her skin crawl. "Oh, _ma chèrie_, I've been there already." He sarcastically murmured. "You said you despise men like me. Haven't you forgotten that your lover is one, too?" His voice was laced with fury.

"What?"

"Or is Josh's cock too big for you that you branded him as an exception?"

Massie flinched from his tone and his crude words. She pulled her free hand and slapped him painfully on the face. _Smack! _He staggered from her, releasing her wrist, but remained his hard stance. He flexed his jaw. "How dare you? How dare you suggest such a revolting thing?" She ignored the tears on her face and stepped towards him, her body trembling in fury. "You don't drag other people especially someone as innocent and good as Josh!"

He laughed again. "Ah, so now, you're defending him? Defending him against your own husband?"

"You have never been my husband!"

"So what am I for you? Just the man who popped your cherry?"

She gasped, outraged. "You are vile and despicable! I never want to see you again!" She turned around to leave.

"Oh, don't paint me as the villain here, _ma chèrie_!" He called to her, making her stop and whirl around. "For the past three days, I've wanted to have a calm and decent conversation with you. I wanted to apologize to you and admit I have done you wrong so we can move on and be together. Differently yet the proper way, this time. But no, you simply had to dwell in the past and be a bitch all the time."

He exhaled a furious sigh and raked his fingers through her hair. "Yes, I left you and hadn't contacted you for four years. Sure, I didn't give you a damn. But you're not the only one who experienced that! Most men in the ton leave their wives for a few years without any communication with them. Damn it, you should be grateful I even came back for you! Can't you just stop burying yourself in the past and move on? For God's sake, woman, you're acting like I killed someone!"

That did it. All her resolve and composure snapped. It was like a bulb inside her went off.

"You killed my baby! You were selfish and you didn't care about me! You were selfish and you left me! You were nowhere when I grieved for our baby! You were fucking sailing the world without a care for anyone but yourself! _You killed my baby, Derrick, and for that, I will never forgive you!_"

Massie turned away from his frozen form and ran from the terrace, her only concern now was to flee.

* * *

**Jeez, I need a glass of water. Whew! Intense. Whew. **

**Oh, my God, for the first time since I started writing stories, I actually trembled during writing! No shit, right? Haha :D Goodness, what Derrick and Massie plus drama does to people *shakes my head* I'm sorry if I had to use such vulgar words. **

**According to _Bookworm (), _I should stop using French if I'm using an internet translator. I'll _refrain_ from using French but I won't completely not use it because French is a vital language in my story. But I'll try minimizing it. Thanks! :D  
**

**Review! :) **


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Derrick! Derrick!" Hannah called out, her voice etched with grave concern, as she pushed past the French doors leading to the terrace. She stepped into the darkening balcony and found her only son slumped on the ground, his back against the railing, one foot propped up while his arm laid limply on it. He had his head bent so Hannah couldn't see his expression. A second later, Josh and Cam came running into the terrace, flanking Hannah's sides. They stopped when they spotted him.

"Darling, what happened?" The dowager duchess asked, his concern for his son increasing by every second.

Hannah had just seen her guests out of the house with Cameron and Josh who had decided to stay for dinner when they heard anxious footsteps from the second landing of the manor. When Massie came running down the staircase with tears pouring down her face, they had all jumped into anxious questions, demanding what was amiss. But the beautiful Duchess of Redvers's answer was a simple thank-you to Hannah for a wonderful afternoon and excused herself because she wasn't feeling well. Before anyone could realize that she hadn't answered their questions enough to find out what was going on, she had already been running to her carriage and with a swift order to her coachman, left, the carriage thundering away from the house.

"You bloody bastard! What did you do to her?" Josh couldn't control the quivering fury in his voice.

Hannah glared at him. "Josh, now is not the time for that. Let's find out what happened first before we jump into conclusions. All right?"

In respect to the dowager duchess who had been a surrogate mother to him since his childhood, he consented to what she wished and nodded.

Derrick raised his head and the tormented look in them was so stark and open for all of them to see that even Josh mentally staggered at it. His eyes went to him and the pain in them was overwhelming. "Did you know?" He asked.

Josh raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Did you know she was pregnant?" He asked, his voice sounding heavy.

Hannah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Cam looked shocked, more than, in fact, while a look of surprise crossed Josh's face for a moment before his features turned cold. "Yes. I knew."

Derrick shook his head violently to the side, making a sound that was a crossover between a whimper and a growl. "I deserve to die." He muttered almost to himself.

The shock which went through him when the words left Massie's mouth was too powerful that it shook him off balance and rendered him speechless and blind. He hadn't even realized she had fled because he was too… stunned to notice. After the shock died down, pain took over and seized him. The grief and hatred he saw in Massie's eyes still haunted him, adding to his own ache. Unconsciously, he had slumped on the ground and stared at nothing in particular, his mind too preoccupied with Massie's last words.

_He would have been a father. _That was the thought that entered his mind and remained, torturing, tormenting him.

Finally Hannah came out of her shock. "Massie was pregnant?" The words sounded so strange. She felt the need to ask for an assurance.

It was Josh who answered. "Yes, she was. When Derrick left her, she was already pregnant but she found out three days later when the servants called for Dr. Winters because her fever was high. They thought she was suffering influenza." His voice didn't hide his contempt in behalf of Massie.

Tears were already oozing from the corners of Hannah's eyes. "Where's the child?" She asked, trying to keep her composure although her lips were trembling.

A hard glint came into Josh's eyes and he stared at Derrick when he replied. "She lost the babe months later."

Hannah gasped. "Oh, no." Her hand that was on her mouth pressed harder to muffle her sobs.

"She was too sickly. Her depression and her health were too overwhelming for her body that she couldn't sustain the child." He continued. "She hadn't even recovered from her grief when her papa died. She was lost after that. Not eating, not sleeping. She only came around a year later."

"Oh, dear, poor Massie." Hannah sobbed. "How could she have recovered from such tragic events?"

"No one knows." Josh answered gravely. "No one could reach out to her despite our efforts. She simply disconnected herself from everybody. Then she suddenly came back to life as if a light bulb in her body switched on and provided her the power."

"Poor Massie. I would have had a grandchild." Hannah cried even harder.

"I killed my own child." Derrick suddenly spoke, his voice filled with anguish that Cam shifted uncomfortably on his heels. None of them was used to seeing Derrick so vulnerable. He had always had that devil-may-care grin on his face as if he didn't care about anything in the world. Yes, this was a first and they weren't comfortable seeing him in such state. "My own child! And I killed him!" He punched the marble floor with his fist. They vaguely saw blood pouring down his wrist.

"No! Don't say that, son!" Hannah flew to crouch in front of him and wrapped his arms around her son. "Don't speak of such blasphemy. You did not know about the babe. Don't torture yourself. Oh, dear, what a mess." Hannah continued to cry as she embraced her son in her arms, trying in vain to comfort him.

Despite the earlier antagonism between them, Josh glanced at Cam and inclined his head to the dowager duchess. Comprehension glazed in Cam's eyes and he nodded. He moved to stand behind Hannah and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Come on, Hannah. Let's leave Derrick with Josh." He murmured soothingly to her as he gently helped her to her feet.

She was still staring back at Derrick when she whispered to him. "I don't like seeing him like this."

"Neither do I or Josh but let's just give him some space now, okay?" He told her as they left the balcony. "Josh knows how to deal with him. Don't worry."

Slightly comforted yet still uncertain, Hannah nodded and allowed Cam to lead her away.

Back in the balcony, the night slowly ascended. The only light that showered in the terrace was from a faint lamp drilled against the wall on the northern side of the terrace. Derrick was still sitting against the railing, facing Josh who was standing a few feet in front of him. Josh's hands were shoved in his pockets while he stared at Derrick and waited.

"The reason…" Derrick began to say. "The reason why she doesn't drink coffee anymore." He glanced up at Josh. "Is it because of…" he couldn't bring himself to say "miscarriage". "because of it?"

Josh nodded. "Yes. When she started carrying the baby, she stopped taking caffeine. Even the smell of it makes her nauseous. Until now, I believe."

Silence followed Josh's answer. Derrick tried to digest everything he learned that night. And thought of the rest, those he hadn't learned yet.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Derrick suddenly asked.

Josh snorted. "Telling you Massie had been pregnant when you left her and had lost the baby was my version of saying 'Hey, brother. Long time no see.'" Josh honestly said. "But I knew Massie would have been furious if I was the one who told you. It wasn't my secret to tell and I knew she would have gotten around and told you. I just figured that she wasn't ready yet."

"You said her father died not long after she…" He couldn't say it. "…she…"

"Lost the child?" Josh supplied, seeing that Derrick was finding a hard time forming the words.

Derrick nodded. "I want to know everything. From the moment I left her. I want you to tell me everything." He demanded.

Josh stared at him, at first. His face was partially hid in the darkness that was drawing upon them but Josh was able to see his eyes. And the expression in them, despite his desire to beat the hell out of Derrick, cooled him down a bit. He had never seen Derrick like this before. Soon, he found himself telling him everything that had happened in the past four years. He narrated the events as if they only happened yesterday.

"When you left town, I thought you were merely going on a business trip. I didn't find out the real reason until three days later when Trevor came barging into Brooke's and demanded me to come along with him. On the ride to your townhouse, he told me the argument you had with Massie and why you left. He told me Massie tried chasing after you to the docks but you were already gone. When she came back to your place, she locked herself in your closet and stayed there, crying, for the next three days. They only found out of her fever on the fourth day. She was burning up as I was informed. Trevor immediately thought she was having a case of influenza. It was rampant during that time so he thought maybe she was suffering from it. She refused food and refused to fall asleep. She said she needed to be awake in case you came home so she could apologize." Josh paused to scoff. "She looked like a walking corpse, according to Ramsey, your chef. When they called for Winters, that was when they found out she was in the early stage of pregnancy."

He paused to wait for Derrick to response but when his friend remained quiet and simply staring blankly at his fist which was propped on his knee, Josh continued. "Four months later, I visited her at their country house where she had been staying for awhile at her papa's insistence. She insisted for us to ride so I was bent on making her happy, giving her distractions, so we did ride at the forest behind their house. We were racing and I was well away winning when I noticed she wasn't following. Her horse came without her on it and when I retraced our steps, I found her unconscious on the ground not far from where I had been."

Josh raked his finger through his hair, the memory of that day still flooding him with dread. "I would never forget that day. It was the most horrifying thing I have ever experienced. It still gives me the creeps." Josh continued but his voice sounded distant as if he was reliving the memory for himself not for an audience. "When I saw the blood on her legs, I froze. I didn't know what to do. I've never been around pregnant women before but that time, I had a pregnant woman whose legs were like a river of blood with me. I tried to relax. I didn't wish for her to see and panic but somehow, she saw the horror in my eyes and she screamed when she saw the blood. She kept telling me about the baby, she screamed so hard that I thought she would snap her throat. I've never been grateful for her to faint until that day." He paused for awhile. "I brought her to the house and they sent midwives over. Her father and I were present when the women prodded… her. It still makes me uncomfortable when I think of that time. There was so much blood and she was so pale and lifeless that I thought she was dead. We assumed she was but after the local doctor checked for her pulse albeit it was faint but thankfully, it was there. But we lost the babe."

He turned to look at Derrick who seemed barely hanging to his sanity. "Her father was the one who told her about the baby when she woke up. I figured I've seen so much and I didn't want to see her further anguish when she found out." He took a deep breath before speaking again. "But I was just outside her door. I heard a scream from the other side of the door. Hers. It sounded like an animal being tortured. I could still hear her half-mad cries. I could still clearly hear her trying to convince herself the baby was alive, that we were just pulling a prank on her, as if it just happened yesterday. She was like that for the next few months." He sighed, looking up at the moon. "She stayed at the countryhouse, detaching herself further from the world. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't sleep, she wouldn't even take a bath. It was even worse when her papa died."

"I heard about that. What happened?" Derrick asked, his voice sounding distracted.

"He had a heart attack while out riding with some of his friends." Josh answered. "It happened a year after Massie's miscarriage. To simply put it, Massie went into a catatonic state. For the next three months, she would simply sit by the window seat in her papa's study and stare out the window with a blank look. There was even a time when the servants feared her because she looked like a corpse. Needless to say, I decided to invite myself to her countryhouse and stayed with her for the next three months although we never talked. I would check in on her every hour and before the gong indicating dinner would sound, I would spend an hour of silence with her in the study. The routine went on for three months. After the third month, it was like something snapped inside her and she suddenly came out of the study, declaring that she was already fit. She snapped orders at everyone, wanting this and wanting that, calling for tutors, hiring an accountant, booking an appointment with beauticians. She spent two months preparing herself until she came back to London and shocked the hell out of everyone.

"But she never was the same. She remained aloof during social functions, only answering the necessary questions. Though she came out and attended the parties, she distanced herself from people still. Her tone was always brusque and businesslike and her expression devoid of emotion. She devoted herself in her businesses, especially the shipping company, but she never forgot to help people along the way. Do you know ever since she took over the company, she helped and hired three times the people from the streets and the slums the government provided with jobs in the past decade?" Josh laughed though it was short and a bit dry. "She keeps making other people's lives better while she neglects her own. She takes the word "selflessness" to a whole new level." Josh glanced at Derrick. "So that's the gist of it."

"I'm an asshole." Derrick muttered to himself as he pushed himself from the ground and onto his feet almost groggily. He met Josh's curious eyes. "Punch me." He said, his voice sane and certain.

Josh's eyes widened, stunned. "_What_?" He probably heard him incorrectly.

"I said punch me." Derrick repeated. "Come on, Josh, I know you've been itching to land a punch ever since the museum debut."

"What?" His friend was insane.

"I SAID PUNCH THE FUCK OUT OF ME, YOU ASSHOLE!" Derrick screamed at his face.

All the bottled-up rage Josh stored in his body came out in a flash of lightning. His eyes saw red and without further thoughts, he acted in his anger and punched Derrick viciously on the face.

Derrick staggered back onto the ground from the impact of Josh's hit. His hand went to his jaw and flexed it. He felt it was broken. His forefinger brushed against the corner of his lip and he felt the oozing of warm liquid. He scooted over to lean back against the railing, propping his knee up. He glanced up at Josh who stood over him, breathing furiously. "You feel better?" Speaking hurt. The muscle on his jaw and cheek ached painfully when they moved as he spoke but he ignored it.

"Hell no." Josh replied as he fell beside Derrick, assuming a position similar to his. He was still trying to calm himself down. "You're a crazy son of a bitch. You know that, right?"

Derrick grinned grimly in response. "I deserve more than that."

Josh raised his palms up. "No arguments here."

They shared a chuckle before Derrick sighed. "When I left her four years ago, I admit I was selfish. I didn't think about how it would affect her. All I thought about was that I needed to be away from her. I needed time to deal with certain circumstances such as marriage, so to speak. I also admit that when I planned to return, I didn't plan to see her again. In my mind, she was the bane of my existence – young, inexperienced, clingy. You of all people know I hate those kinds of women."

"No, let me finish." Derrick continued when Josh opened his mouth to interrupt. "The reason why I stayed away for such a long time, though I've never really thought of it, is probably because I wanted to forget her before I came back. I wanted to forget our last argument. I wanted to forget how exasperating she was. I wanted to forget her but I never did, actually. Those big brown eyes kept haunting me during the day and in my sleep. I'm embarrassed to admit that they scared me. The adoration and trust in them was just too overwhelming for me. I wanted to forget that and the things she made me feel and contemplate. That's why I stayed away for four years, overindulging myself with different women. I thought if I went back to my old lifestyle – the reckless abandon and everything – she would be easily forgotten. It never did, though."

They were quiet for awhile. Josh thought of his words. "What you said doesn't change anything, Red." He finally said.

Derrick glanced sharply at him and Josh saw the pain in them which made him bite back the following words he had in mind. "Don't you think I know that?" He knew he sounded tormented but he didn't care. For the first time in his entire life, he didn't care about appearances. "Fuck, I lost my firstborn, Josh! My first born! My heir! Noting could ever change that." Derrick banged his head once back against the railing. "Because of my fear of being seized by a woman, I left and let my child down. Do you know how that feels, Josh?" He ended in a near shout.

Josh stared at him, seeing this side of Derrick for the first time. Not even when his papa died when they were 10. And Josh thought that was the closest Derrick got to crying. Well, he thought wrong. "No." He said, his voice lost of all the anger. "No, I don't know how it feels losing a child. But I can see that you're regretting those lost years."

Derrick laughed bitterly. "Hell yes, I do. More than anything. If only I stayed…"

Josh shook his head, feeling sympathy for his best friend. "If you stayed, Massie wouldn't be the woman she is right now. The years helped her, built her into a stronger woman."

"You're probably right about that." Derrick murmured. "I literally bumped into her the night I returned and I didn't even recognize her. My libido immediately rose to full force when I saw her. I was determined to have her the moment I saw her. I didn't sleep and for the first time in my life, I didn't take a woman with me. The next day when I went to the townhouse with the intention of finding my grandfather Harrington's titles to the land in York where I plan to set up a race track against the one in Newport but Trevor told me it was in locked in her safe, I saw her. Massie. Trevor told me who she was and I couldn't believe it. I went to Harriet's and asked her to fill me in about the information and the gossips about my wife. She even wagered with me when I told her I'll have Massie back."

"Wait, wait, wait." Josh said, sitting up straight suddenly. "Let me get this straight because I'm suddenly confused. So the reason why you're hell-bent on getting Massie back is because, first, you're after the land titles which only Massie knows where, and, second is because you made a wager with Harriet."

But Derrick was already shaking his head. "No."

The crease on Josh's forehead deepened. "You just said –"

"Yes, that was what my initial plan was but somehow, it's not anymore."

Josh's hand went to his forehead which he massaged, trying to fight off the headache he suddenly felt possessing him. "Explain to me, Red, because I am beyond comprehension right now."

"When I first saw her at the Clairvoux party, I already made a vow to have her." Derrick began to explain. "I came to the townhouse, not knowing my mystery woman was my wife, wanting the titles to _grand-père_'s land. I went to Harriet for information. I agreed to her wager, seeing it as a challenge although I already made up my mind prior to that that I will have her back. But when I actually started pursuing her – or rather, barging into her life – something suddenly changed." He paused to sigh. "I no longer had the titles and the wager in my mind. All I thought of was to have her back, to start a life with her. A life which should have been ours when I married her. I don't care about winning the wager or having the titles back. I just want her." Derrick admitted.

"Do you love her?" Josh asked.

Derrick didn't answer for a long time. Josh thought he wouldn't even answer.

When Josh decided to stand up and leave, he was pulled back when Derrick suddenly spoke up. "I have… conflicting feelings for her. I've never thought of any other woman since I saw her again. Whenever I look at her, I feel… warm. Different. Contented. Whenever I touch her, from the slightest most innocent touch, I feel like I've won every race in Newport. I've never wanted any woman as much as I want her now. But I can't say it's all physical. I find myself wondering when I would hear her laugh or see her smile again." Then Derrick chuckled. "I even look forward to our next verbal sparring. I don't know if I love her. I've never personally loved anyone before, Josh. I don't know the feeling but what I know is that if I can't get her to forgive me and if I can't have her by my side again, I'll die."

Josh was silent. He considered everything Derrick told him and everything which he saw in his friend's eyes which were now open for him to read and prod. He loved Massie so much and he was bent on keeping her safe and away from pain.

But still, he had to consider the current circumstances. Derrick seemed genuine. No, he _was_ speaking the truth. His eyes were, too. That kind of torture which Josh saw in his eyes was not easy to feign. Even someone as skilled as Derrick with lies and deception could not pull that kind of emotion and make it look true if it wasn't real.

But then again, what will happen to him? He was the one who was sure with his feelings with Massie.

Still…

But…

Then again…

No. He already knew what to do.

"Do you know that I feel like it was my fault Massie lost the baby?" Josh asked rhetorically. "If only I had the heart to deny her." He chuckled. "I've never been able to deny her anything. But the guilt – the knowledge that I could have prevented her miscarriage still gnaws at my conscious. But I know that there are things in life that we ourselves cannot prevent from happening." Shaking his head, Josh stood up and offered his hand to Derrick.

Wondering what he was up to, Derrick accepted his hand and let him help him up.

Only to be punched square on the face again by Josh.

"Shit!" Derrick cursed violently. He staggered back but thankfully, didn't fall. Josh's latest punch was harder than his first. It hurt like hell. "Are you suicidal, man? I gave you permission to punch me once. I didn't give you permission to punch me whenever you feel inclined to." He massaged his aching jaw.

Josh punched him again. But from the other side, this time.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ONE FOR?" Derrick bellowed. "Hell." He muttered as he touched his nose. Damn, he broke that one, too.

"The first punch was because you asked me to." Josh explained. "The second punch was because I've wanted to do that since Trevor came to find me at Brooke's four years ago. And the third punch is because you made me forfeit and give up the first woman I've ever loved. A fourth and ten other punches will come if you hurt her again and make me regret my decision." Then he turned around and left.

It took Derrick a few seconds to digest what Josh had said. His stance relaxed, his aching jaw and broken nose forgotten, a smile curved his lips. But then something struck him and made him tense again.

In what way could Massie forgive him? Her pain was too incredible for a simple "I'm sorry I was a fucking idiot but I promise I'll take care of you from now on" or even for a colorful poetic speech such as "I apologize for being immature and selfish but I truly want you back. You suddenly brought life to my darkened path. You taught me how to see things through a brighter perspective." Hell, even, if he bought an island for her, it wouldn't be enough.

He needed to find a way for Massie to forgive him.

Come heaven or hell, he would do anything to have Massie forgive him.

Even if it was the last thing he'll do.

"Josh!" He called as he ran after his friend. "Wait!"

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**There! He already knows! Ya happy, people? (HAHA)**

**Anyway, I need to know if his reaction was to your satisfaction. This chapter was so hard to write. I hope I did well. :D**

**By the way, after the NEXT chapter, I will be taking a very very short hiatus. It's like a recess period. I won't be updating for two or three days, I guess, because I will be reevaluating my story map. I had a dream last night which screams at me to include it. So I have to construct a new story map without making this story too scattered. Plus, I considered EVERY suggestions you included in your reviews and I have decided to include some of them. So, yeah, I have to work them into the story. I hope I made that all clear and my short "recess" wouldn't diminish your support. I'm taking a break so that this story will be better and more entertaining to you, my lovely readers! :))  
**

**Now, I'm waiting for those delectable reviews. *waiting impatiently* (HAHAHA)  
**


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Massie cried all throughout the drive back to London which was more or less an hour and a half.

She forgot all her self-appointed rules – the rules which made her survive the last two years. Rules about retreating to her mask of composure and indifference when situations get too risky and keeping a tight grip on her wrist no matter what happened. Included in said rules was also that she would never allow her emotions to rule her and make her act irrationally. She also warned herself never to keep her emotions involved when dealing with people, no matter who they were, so as to prevent personal conflicts and problems.

Those rules had been her companions – her voices and guides ever since she decided that crying for someone who had never been hers alone and they had always kept her safe and free from any complications. She figured that she was never rational and logical when it came to dealing with her emotions so she decided not to deal with them anymore. She had already learned her lesson through the hard way.

And that was through loving Derrick Harrington so much.

Massie almost laughed when she thought of the first time she realized she was in love with Derrick. It was during their wedding, specifically during their first dance as man and wife. She would never forget that moment. She could vividly remember it as if it only occurred yesterday.

She had danced with other men prior to that, of course. When she married Derrick, it was just her second Season. She had come out the year before that and as customary, she had been present to _every_ ball, dancing with tons of men, and even had a few young men as suitors. But no one had ever made her feel like Derrick did. She had felt the electricity at their initial touch. Even the slightest touch felt like the most blatant caress. When he held her in his arms while they danced, she had felt she had gone to heaven already. No one had ever danced with her in such a provocative and sensual waltz until that moment.

But that wasn't the reason why she had fallen in love with him so suddenly.

No. It was because of his eyes.

She had never seen such black eyes before. They had looked so deep and intense that Massie could almost feel the power radiating from them. When he had turned down and looked her – really looked at her – for the first time, that was when she knew she was in love with him.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_! Massie thought as she beat her head with her fist.

What had been even more stupid was that she still loved him even after they got into their first argument which resulted into him not coming home for days and returning smelling of another woman's scent. She had still been in love with him when he left her. It never diminished. She had always thought of him as if he were there, sitting beside her, looking out the window. Sometimes, she would even talk to herself, pretending that he was there, answering all her questions, listening to everything she said. Everyone in the townhouse had thought she had gone insane. They had even started avoiding her for fear that she would suddenly snap and harm someone.

That was when she decided she needed to leave London.

She had been more than grateful when her papa accepted her back in their country house, pretending to believe her excuse of wanting to relax and that she had missed going to the countryside. Ah, her papa. Her papa who had devoted himself to making her happy when she had stayed with him four months after Derrick left. Her papa had taken good care of her and her baby and had always thought of forms of entertainment to keep her distracted from the grimness of her life. But there were just certain things in life that no one can prevent.

Like her miscarriage. She hadn't expected that. She had been barely hanging onto her sanity. Her baby was her thread that kept her from going completely insane. She even had a name in mind already. If she had a baby girl, she would have named her Venus Ariana. If the baby was a boy, she would have given him the name Colin Apollo. She thought they were nice names. When she had seen the blood pouring down her thighs and legs that one horrid afternoon, she had felt all her sanity slipping away. When she had woken up and her papa told her that her baby was gone, she had been beyond deranged. She had never wanted to live after that.

But the worst bite had been when her papa died. That was when she had felt utterly alone. Everyone she loved had already left her. She had seen no reason for her to live anymore. She hadn't felt any need to sleep, at all. She had stayed awake every day for the next three months after her papa died, waiting for death to come upon her and save her from all the pain she had been experiencing. She had been more than ready to die. But apparently, death wasn't ready for her.

Thank goodness Josh had been right beside her all those dreadful times. They never really talked after the baby died and then after her papa passed away. He was more like a silent companion, a presence whose energy offered her comfort without any words. He would simply sit there beside her and he would be offering her comfort without even making any gesture. His presence, his familiar warmth, was enough for her.

And because of that, she had kept her sanity. Unbelievably so.

But the pain was too incredible that she hadn't been able to resurface from it until the third month after her papa died. She had been sitting by the window at her papa's study – the place where she had been staying ever since he was gone – when she had caught movement by the hill near their land. She had been staring at nothing in particular really when she saw two or three children running from the lake below and a few seconds later, a man and a woman who was carrying an infant came chasing after them. They looked so happy together, enjoying the sunny afternoon, but when Massie had squinted her eyes and taken a closer look at them, she had noticed that they were dressed in old, dirty garbs that spoke of their status. The children hadn't even been wearing footwear.

That was when Massie realized that they were other people in the world who were experiencing far greater troubles than what she was experiencing. She had realized that she had been self-conceited, thinking that her life ended when Derrick left her. Stupid, pathetic, little chit she had been.

That moment as she gazed at the happy family on the hill was when she had come to decide that she needed to get back on her feet, live life, making her unborn baby and her late papa proud of her, and prove to people that she was not the inferior no-good young woman whom they all believed her to be. She had decided then and there that she would spend her future, helping those less fortunate and those abused. She had come to a decision where she would do all she can to have everyone respect her and have everyone who had bad-mouthed and criticized her fall onto their knees in awe and admiration of her.

That day had been the start of her revenge to all those who had been unfair to her and her revenge for her baby and her papa.

And after weeks of tutorials and appointments with beauticians, she had come back to London, a completely different woman – someone they couldn't help but admire, someone men drooled over, someone women were envious of, someone the government would suffer without, someone they couldn't easily trample. She had become the patroness and the tigress no one in the _ton_ thought she could be.

And she had been delighted.

Or so she thought.

She was jarred out of her thoughts when the carriage rocked and skidded to a halt.

"Your Grace, we're 'ere!" Her driver called to her followed by the footman opening the door and helping her out.

Trevor was already waiting at the entrance hall with a big smile, ready to greet her and the duke a good evening. When she emerged through the front door alone, Trevor's curiosity bore. His eyes widened in shock when he saw that she had been crying. "Your Grace!" He gasped. "What happened?" He hurried to assist her. "Where's the duke?"

Massie sobbed even more but didn't give him any answer.

"Julia! Julia!" Trevor frantically called out as he led Massie to sit on the bottom of the stairs. "Come on, lass, sit down. You seem dead on your feet."

Massie allowed him to sit her down just as Julia came rushing. "What the devil are you screaming for, man?" She demanded but then her eyes fell on Massie's disheveled form and she, too, gasped. "Oh, my! What happened to you, child?" She went to sit beside Massie and wrapped her arms around her.

The feeling of her arms wrapped so motherly around her made her feel like she was being embraced by her own mother. She only cried harder. "I told him." Massie croaked, tears running down her face like flood. "Derrick knows about the baby because he provoked me and I told him."

Julia gasped again and glanced at Trevor, desperation in her eyes. "Oh, no!"

Trevor, the more calm one, asked, "What did he say, lass?"

"I don't know!" Massie wailed. "I ran away the moment the words left my mouth." She pulled away harshly from Julia and stood up, pacing like a madwoman. "This is his entire fault! I wouldn't have told him and I would still be living peacefully if he hadn't come to the house two days ago and kept chasing me since then! Why he came is even beyond my comprehension up until now! Even if he owns the house, he simply can't come and go as he pleases as if nothing happened and he didn't hurt me so badly!"

Julia pulled away from her position at the bottom of the stairs and flew to wrap her arms around Massie whom she had regarded as her own daughter for the past years. "Stop moving too much, child. You'll swoon if you keep pacing around." She scolded, her own tears falling down her face though she tried not to let her see them.

"Haven't His Grace told you, lass, that he came that morning to get his grandpapa's titles?" Trevor asked with an arched brow.

Massie's eyes snapped to Trevor. "What titles?"

"The titles of his grandpapa's lands in York where he plans to build a race track. I told him you have all important documents hidden in your safe at your bedroom and that you alone can access them." Trevor frowned. "Didn't he tell you that?"

More tears flowed from the corners of Massie's eyes but they weren't due to grief anymore. The new set of tears was because of anger. Of anger due to her husband's clever deception. She suddenly laughed. It was a bitter sound that sounded terrible and almost sinister to Trevor and Julia's ears. "Oh, he didn't. He did not tell me a thing of the truth actually." She laughed again. "Stupid, I've been an utter idiot."

Julia gasped while Trevor frowned. "Nay, lass, you aren't." Ramsey suddenly appeared from the hall leading to the kitchen. He had a knife on one hand while an onion on the other. "You aren't! The boy's the one who is stupid."

Massie only laughed then she disentangled herself from Julia. "Where's Claire?" She asked as she walked up the stairs with the three following her.

"She went to visit her mama, child." Trevor answered, though he sounded confused.

"Get my carriage ready for me." Massie ordered, her tone suddenly brusque.

Three sets of voices bombarded her with questions.

"And no questions from all of you three. I want the carriage ready in ten minutes." She bellowed and disappeared at the hall leading to her bedroom.

Ten minutes later, Massie came running down the staircase, bringing with her one average-sized valise. She was hurrying as if the devil was on her tail.

Julia gasped when she saw what she was bringing. "Where are you going, child? You aren't leaving, are you?"

She and the other two worried men were standing by the door, waiting for her, wondering what she will order them next.

"Open the door, Trevor." She told the more-than-worried butler.

Massie ran to the carriage and swung her valise inside when the footman hurriedly opened the door. She swiftly got inside and shut the door close, ignoring the worried looks and anxious questions her three most trusted servants were giving her.

"Just drive!" She yelled to the driver.

"Where are you going, lass?" Ramsey shouted at her as he ran down the front steps.

"Your Grace! Your Grace!" Trevor kept shouting at her but the carriage was already running away from the townhouse. "MASSIE!"

Massie glanced back and checked that they weren't following her but were still at the street in front of the house, yelling at her to come back. Massie sighed, faced forward, and leaned against the seat.

She needed to get away.

She needed to be alone for now.

She needed a place where she could think freely and clearly. A place where she could organize her thoughts without being interrupted or disturbed.

She already knew where she needed to go.

Leaning forward on the seat, she shouted to the driver through the square-hole the directions to her papa's river house just outside London but was sufficiently hidden and remote. No one knew about it but her, her papa and mama.

Clearly relieved for the moment, she leaned back again and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep and forget the horrible events of the day.

An hour later at Harrington estate, Derrick and Hannah were standing by the front door, bidding Josh goodbye when Derrick's messenger – a lad not older than twenty – came thundering on a battered-looking horse. Sensing that something was terribly wrong, Derrick instinctively ran and met the young man halfway. Josh who was about to leave in his carriage came out and ran beside Derrick.

"What's wrong, Bert?" Derrick asked, his senses all alert. "Is there some trouble in London?"

Beside him, Josh stood also tensed, his instincts telling him of danger. They waited for the lad to catch his breath and swing down the equally exhausted horse.

The next words that left Bert's mouth was the news both men feared the most to hear.

"It's the duchess, Your Grace, me lord. She's gone."

Not more than the words barely came out of Bert's mouth did Derrick start running to the stables. He ignored his mother who was trying to ask what happened and Josh who was shouting after him.

"Derrick! Slow down!" His mother called out to him as she raced after him.

"Red! I'm coming with you!" Josh shouted at the same time.

No. He didn't care about them right now. All he could think of was that Massie was gone. All he could think of was that she was gone and that nowhere was safe for a woman – especially a rich, beautiful woman traveling the road at night alone with only her driver.

_Please let her be safe. Please let her be safe_. He kept chanting in his head as he briskly gave orders to the stableman to bring out his horse. The stunned and frantic stableman hurried to do his bidding while Derrick tried to convince himself nothing will happen to Massie.

He couldn't wait anymore. He swung up the horse even though the old man wasn't finished bridling it yet.

"Your Grace! I haven't placed the bridle yet!" The stableman yelled after him but Derrick was already galloping away like lightning had struck him. "Your Grace!"

He was vaguely aware that Josh had also told the stableman to get a horse for him and was currently following a few yards behind him. He was less than half aware of his surroundings even. His thoughts were centered on Massie and her safety. That was all that mattered to him right now.

He couldn't afford losing Massie. In one way or another, he couldn't and wouldn't be able to live through it if something bad happened.

No. He needed her whole and with him when he finally told her.

When he finally told her that he loved her.

The realization struck him but he immediately recovered from it. The knowledge – the tingling awareness – had already been lurking in him for quiet some time. But he had dismissed the thought as an overreaction of his lust, his desire to have her back. He had never acknowledged the conflicting emotions he had been starting to feel towards Massie ever since their powerful waltz last night.

But now, the thought of losing her, of never seeing her again, was like a wake-up call from the heavens, forcing him to see the brandishing truth which had been right in front of him. He was in love with her. He, who had never felt love towards any woman aside from his mother, was in love. If the thought occurred to him a week ago, he would have laughed it off and assumed someone was playing a prank with him. He had never thought of himself romantic, never even interacted with the chaotic world of love. Never in his twenty seven years of life had he ever thought that he would one day meet his match who turn his games of seduction around and victimize him, instead of the other way around. He never thought that the day would come when the tables will be turned and he would be the captive, not the captor.

Such ironies in life but he won't shield himself and ego from the truth anymore. He was in love with Massie and no matter how hard it would, he will deal with that and embrace the consequences of succumbing to every man's fear: being seized by a woman.

"Stay where you are, Massie." He whispered into the night as he was hunched forward on his galloping horse. "Wait for me. Please stay where you are."

For the first time in his twenty seven years of life, Derrick Harrington prayed.**  
**

* * *

**There. Get that, Derrick! HAHA I'm eviiiil. :D**

**Anyway, so far, I have written the next two chapters and maybe I won't be needing a break after all. BUT. But it's still a _maybe_. :)**

**Thank you to all lovely reviewers. And welcome back, ! HAHA. One of my most loyal reviewers since Sweet Revenge. And, I'm wondering why there were just a few who reviewed. Hmm. If you want me to update everyday, ya hafta encourage me, people.**

**AND REVIEWS ARE THE BESTEST ENCOURAGEMENT SINCE CHOCOLATE! :)))**

**P.S. I was experiencing a bit of a writer's block in this chapter. So, that might explain why you may find the chapter less-promising. :D But, review still!  
**


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Derrick didn't stop looking for Massie. On the way to the capital from his family's country house, he stopped over every village he had passed. He didn't bother for any pleasantries and had asked around whether they had seen his wife. It was about midnight when he returned to the Town and despite the time and inconvenience looking for her during the dark, he continued his search for her.

But nothing. His rapid search hadn't accomplished anything.

He dropped by his townhouse at Upper Brooke Street around five in the morning, pushing the doorbell impatiently. The insistent noise could have woken half of London and he still wouldn't have stopped ringing the bell.

Three minutes later, the door opened and a haggard-looking Trevor faced him.

"Your Grace!" His eyes widened at first then a look of relief passed his face. "I take it Bert already told you?"

Nodding impatiently, Derrick pushed past him and entered the front hall. "What time did the duchess leave last night?" He asked at once as he took the stairs two steps at a time. "And what did she say before she left?"

Trevor was trying to keep up behind him while trying to answer his questions. "The duchess left around eight last night, Your Grace. Prior to that she hadn't mentioned anything about leaving."

Derrick turned to the hall leading to their bedrooms. "She didn't tell you anything before she left?"

"Only of what happened, Your Grace. And you still deserve a tongue-lashing session, boy." His voice had been stripped of all formalities and had taken a reprimanding, paternal tone. "You hurt the poor lass's feelings. Why, she looked like she had been ransacked and raped by ten thousand men when she arrived!" He exaggerated but he didn't care. "Ramsey and Julia are still bent on not speaking to you."

Derrick paused to open the door to Massie's bedchamber. He went inside and searched the room with his eyes. There seemed nothing peculiar. The bed hadn't been slept in. He turned to open her wide closet. "Well, you can tell them that I don't care if they won't speak to me. Right now, all I care about is finding Massie and make her believe that I do want to be with her again. But for the right reasons." He glanced back meaningfully at Trevor when he said that.

Trevor regarded him at first in silence. He hung back, assessing the sincerity of the young duke who had been under his care ever since he was a boy. He truly saw the boy as his own son, even with his notorious womanizing and insatiable drinking and gambling. As he stood behind, watching the duke prodding through all cabinets and drawers of the duchess to look for a clue where she would be, what he saw was genuine worry, fear, and desperation.

_Huh_, he humphed to himself, half-pleased, half-annoyed with him. It seemed like the boy has gotten around his feelings already. _About time_, he thought.

"Did she bring anything with her?" Derrick's brisk inquiry jarred him out of his thoughts.

"Just one valise, Your Grace. Nothing else." Trevor answered. "I thought it means she won't be long and come back from her vacation."

Derrick patted the bed, looking for something, probably a diary, but nothing was there. Thoroughly furious, he flipped the mattress to the floor with an angry growl. "Damn it! She doesn't have any personal items here except for dresses!" He gritted through clenched teeth and kicked the bed with his booted foot, ignoring the sting of pain that shot up in his toe. "Where the hell did she go?" He asked almost to himself. "I have looked _everywhere_!" He whirled around in a gesture of exasperation and fell to the bed on his buttocks.

"I believe she went to the one place you cannot find her." A female voice suddenly answered from the doorway. Julia stepped inside and walked into the room, standing beside Trevor. Her gaze – her glare was fixed solely on Derrick.

Derrick's head snapped up to her. "Do you know where she is?" He angrily bellowed.

Julia met his glare defiantly. "No." she answered. "I don't know where the poor lass went and why do you even care?"

"Julia –" Trevor warned.

But she cut him off. "No, it's time to face all the facts and not continue believing such foolish notions we had yesterday." She told him then turning back to Derrick, she continued. "Maybe it's for the better she went away and would never come back. Goodness knows what sort of pain you'll expose her to again. The lass has suffered enough already. She's a strong one, aye, but she's never one when it comes to you, boy." She narrowed her eyes at him. "You married a wonderful young woman, who has a good heart, lad, and you don't deserve her. You are the one lucky to have married her, not the other way around. No matter what you think or others say, boy."

The words stung but he didn't let both his most trusted servants know about it. In other instances, he would have fired them both for having the gall to talk to him in such an insolent way but he saw nothing but their concern and care for their mistress which pleased him immensely. He knew they cared about her like how they did to him when he was still a boy. He even felt a bit amused at the sudden shift of his servants' loyalty. If the woman he loved hadn't been missing, he would have smiled, even laughed.

But the woman he loved really was missing and nothing even close to humor could be inferred to this.

"What do you think about what I said, boy?" Julia prompted him.

"I think you're right. Both of you are." He said, shocking them both. They had never heard the duke whom they had known ever since he was just a child admit that they were right and he was wrong. "I do deserve a tongue-lashing and I already did. From my mother and Josh and I already expected to get it from you two and I imagine Ramsey is imagining I am the swordfish he's about to chop and cook." He paused for awhile, considering what to say, then continued. "But you ask why I care, Julia? I care because I love her."

Julia's mouth fell open while Trevor's eyes widened, both in complete shock.

"I love her and I know that I don't deserve her." He said. "But I'm not letting her go. Not now, not ever. I didn't realize my luck, my fortune, four years ago but now that I've realized and come to embrace it, I'm not letting it pass again." Then he glanced and stared at both stunned servants as if to challenge them. "So if any of you have any problem with me being with her again, then you'll just have to suffer in silence because I will not change my place. She's the first woman who has made me feel like this – the first and most definitely the last woman I've come to love – and I will do everything to have her know it."

He waited for them to digest what he said and come out of their stupor which took them quite awhile and tested Derrick's patience. He groaned impatiently. "If you two won't be willing to tell me anything or help me in any way, then I ought to depart and continue looking for my wife." He started to stand and walk to the door when Julia suddenly chuckled.

He turned around and stared at her as if she were mad.

Shaking her head, Julia glanced at Trevor. "Finally. He came around." Which also made Trevor join her in her laughter.

"Yes, it seems that he did." He replied.

Derrick rolled his eyes heavenward. "So, are you two going to help me or what?"

Julia and Trevor exchanged a look and then nodded at him.

"Thank you." He told them, a hint of sarcasm in his tone but they just smiled it off. Derrick moved to lean against the doorway, ready to question them. "What did she say when she arrived?"

"She told us you already know about the babe." Julia answered. "And she rambled on and on how it is your fault." She glanced at Trevor and then back at him. "Those are all what she told us."

"Did she say anything about leaving?"

Trevor shook his head. "She didn't. I believe she wasn't even thinking about it, at first."

This was getting harder than he thought. Raking his hand through his hair, he shifted on his feet. "Nothing else?"

Trevor and Julia glanced at each other and thought of the previous night's events. They couldn't remember anything else except that she was rambling, she was shouting and crying.

And then a thought hit Julia. Pointing at Trevor, she said, "You told her about the titles when she said she doesn't even know why the duke even returned to house and started pestering her, remember?"

Derrick instantly stiffened.

"Yes." Trevor confirmed. "That was when she decided to leave. After I told her about the titles."

No, no, no, _no_! Derrick thought as everything fell into place. He knew why she suddenly left.

"Shit." He muttered gravely before he ran out of the bedroom.

Julia and Trevor shouted and ran after him but he ignored both of them.

As he ran down the steps of the grand staircase, he barked orders to both his servants. "I want everyone in the house to go out and search for the duchess. Julia, you will to be here in case some news about Her Grace comes. All the female staff will remain here with you and the men will go out and do the search. Trevor, I want you to send a message to the Viscount of Bathurst of what you just told me and tell him to have all of his staff out and about. Send the Marquess of St. James a message, too, and tell him to ask help from and have Sir Plovert notified about the duchess's disappearance. After that, you alert the police. No questions, no arguments, no delays." He ordered. "_Now_!"

When Trevor told her that Derrick had come to the house to get the titles to his grandfather's land in York for the racing track he had in mind, Massie thought that was the only reason Derrick was pursuing her. To get the titles. If that was what she thought, then it would be more than likely Derrick would never see her again. It didn't matter that she only had one valise with her. The woman had money all over England and she could withdraw them and leave the place whenever she wished. She could buy her own house, clothes wouldn't be any problem, and she would be more than welcomed in any country in the continent.

As all these thoughts passed Derrick's mind, the fear of losing her increased. Without any second thoughts, he swung up the box of the carriage parked in front of the townhouse and drove the curricle himself.

* * *

Six hours have passed since the Duke of Redvers left his townhouse and went looking for Massie again. He circled all the docks located in London, asking if the duchess had gotten on a boat. But nobody said they saw anyone or had a passenger looking like the Duchess of Redvers.

_She could have disguised herself_, he angrily thought as he drove almost maniacally to the Emerald Shipping Company office at the eastern docks. Commanding his steeds to a halt in front of the driveway, he jumped down and started looking for Guy Willander. Spotting Massie's business partner standing on the deck of one of the resting boats, he made a sprint towards the direction where he was.

"Willander!" He called out. "Willander!"

Guy turned from the man he was talking with and looked at the surface, squinting at the man sprinting towards him. Recognizing the man, he climbed down the boat through the plank and met him halfway. "Re –" He started addressing him so casually but caught himself. "Your Grace."

"Have you seen Massie?" Derrick impatiently asked him.

Guy frowned. "No. Is there something wrong with her?"

"She's gone. She left the townhouse last night and we don't have any idea where she is. I've searched for her since last night but there's no sign of her." He told him.

"She's _gone_?" Guy bellowed. "What did you do to her?"

"I don't wish to waste my time, listening to you yelling at me." Derrick snapped.

"You bloody bast -"

"Dare to shout at me again and I will have you banished from London." Derrick threatened, not caring that several of the employees have paused from their work and were staring at them, straining their ears to listen. Guy's chest was heaving in anger but he decided to obey the duke's threat, knowing so well that he would banish him without a second thought. "Now, do I have your attention?"

Guy's answer was to glare at him.

"Good." Derrick said. "I need you to have your men out searching for the duchess. Hire hackneys or rent as many horses as you want and just have them charge at my townhouse which will serve as the headquarters. Any news or developments should be reported back to the townhouse. My man, Trevor, will be waiting for any information. Tell your men to search out of London also because there's a bigger possibility that Massie is not in London right now. I have searched everywhere and no one seemed to have seen her. I want every man here looking for her. Understand?"

He didn't wait for the seething man to respond. Derrick turned on his heels and jogged back to his curricle. Hoisting himself up the box, he was about to order the horses to pull away when he suddenly turned around.

He found Guy was still standing at the middle although three younger men have joined her now, clearly asking what the Duke of Redvers had told him. "And, Willander?" He shouted to the man. "I happen to love Massie so much and whoever finds her first, I'll give him a reward."

His statement so simply said caused a stir among the employees. As soon as he said those words, they all jumped into abandoning their work and setting out to look for the duchess.

Mildly satisfied, Derrick turned back to the road and kicked the reins off.

* * *

When he arrived back at home, there was a small welcoming party waiting for him at the parlor. Josh, Cam, Julia, Ramsey, two giant men – he vaguely remembered Josh's comment at the museum debut about Massie's two giant guards, Grainger and Rigor, if he remembered it accurately - and three uniformed officers were gathered in the parlor. Trevor was also there, handing out refreshment to the exhausted-looking men. When they spotted Derrick, those who were sitting on the settees – Cam, Julia and one of the officers – stood up at once.

"Any developments?" Julia anxiously asked.

Derrick shook his head. "I went to check all the docks but she hadn't been there." He said as he strolled to sit lean against the table at the corner of the room. Every pair of eyes followed him. "I dropped by the Emerald and informed Willander. I also told him to have all his men go out and look for her. But other than that, nothing." He glanced at the others. "How about you?"

Josh was the first one to speak. "I already had all my servants in the capital and at my country home informed about Massie's disappearance. They've been out looking for her."

"And I, too, have done the same." Cam said. "I also did what you asked earlier through Julia and had sent a message to Chris about your wife's disappearance. My messenger just informed me an hour before you arrived that Chris is coming back to the capital as soon as he gets matters settled in his estate. The authorities have been notified." He gestured to the officers present. "And so have the other local authorities out of London territory."

Derrick absentmindedly let his eyes roam the room. "Doesn't Massie have a lady's maid?"

Surprised by the question, Trevor nodded. "Yes. Claire. Why do you ask, Your Grace?"

"I haven't seen her since the day we left." Derrick observed.

"Claire has pleaded for a few days off, Your Grace, because her mama's been sick and she's the only family she has." Trevor explained. "She only asked for a week off, Your Grace. But if it is of importance, I could send a messenger to her and summon her back."

Derrick shook his head. "No. I was just wondering if she would know where her mistress would be. But never mind."

Trevor nodded.

One officer, clearly the one with the higher position among the three, cleared his throat and stepped forward. He bowed to Derrick. "Permission to speak, Your Grace."

Derrick tilted his head in consent.

"The stations in all other villages and counties outside London have already been notified and a description of the duchess has been sent out to them for reference. It would be not be too long until the duchess will be found, Your Grace. They declared it." He said. "But, for now, Your Grace, all that's left for us to do is wait for any developments."

Three different voices shouted their disagreements. But no one saw the implication behind the three men's actions because everyone broke into formulating plans, designating places where he would search.

Indeed they say that even the greatest of adversaries would unite for a common reason.

In this situation, the reason was person.

And in this case, the person was Massie.

* * *

Outside the busy walls of Redvers Townhouse, three overzealous women were walking the curb in front of the townhouse. Heads bowed, they stopped a few feet from the townhouse, eyeing the house and the number of carriages parked in front of it with interest.

"See!" The taller one, Kristen Gregory, squealed in excitement. "I told you the gossip spreading about London was true."

"Which one?" Dylan Marvil, the redhead, asked. "Darling, there are gossips spreading about in the capital every second."

"Stupid imp." Kristen muttered as she rolled her eyes at Dylan. "About the Duchess of Redvers's disappearance in the middle of the night, of course!"

Excitement rose in Dylan's eyes. "Oooh, do tell!" she squealed like a little girl.

Beside her, the shorter woman, Layne Abeley rolled her eyes too. "Ignore her." She said about Dylan. "But do elaborate."

Kristen gestured for them to get closer to her. "I heard from my lady's maid who heard from Lady Harvey's cook who heard from the wife of the Town baker who heard from the Marchioness of St. Ives who heard from her companion who heard from one of the servants in the Redvers townhouse that the duchess got into a fight with the duke about him leaving her four years past and that some vile words were exchanged resulting to the duchess's leaving the capital in the middle of the night. It is also said that the duke has been searching endlessly for her since last night. I even heard that he has gone half-mad looking for her already!"

Dylan and Layne gasped.

"Oh, dear." Layne said. "Such a tragic thing. I wonder what exactly went wrong. I heard rumors that the duke is bent like steel on getting his duchess back."

"Oh, yes!" Kristen gushed. "I heard about that, too! Have you seen their waltz during the duchess's museum debut?" Kristen fanned herself dramatically. "The crowd was mesmerized. I've never seen a couple with such chemistry as they have."

Layne smacked her in the head. "Idiot! We were there with you. Of course, we saw them." She ignored Kristen who was glaring at her and turned to Dylan who seemed distracted. "Right, Dylan?"

She didn't answer. She seemed like she was thinking about something difficult to understand.

"Dylan!" Layne waved her hand in front of the distracted woman's face.

"I was wondering how you could bend steel." Dylan said absentmindedly.

Layne raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, you said that the Duke of Redvers is bent like steel on getting back with the duchess. So, I was wondering how you could bend steel." She sounded exasperated as if her argument made any sense. "Isn't steel hard?"

Kristen and Layne glanced at each other, both harboring desires to strangle their daft friend. But decided otherwise and just ignore her.

"What other things have you heard?" Layne prodded Kristen.

Instantly, Dylan and her daftness were forgotten. "I also heard that both the Viscount of Bathurst and the Marquess of St. James are also sweeping the Town in search of the lost duchess."

"Of course, they'll help the duke. Those three are like brothers, you idiot!"

Kristen glowered at her. "I _know_. But my source tells me that both lords are besotted with the duchess."

Layne gasped.

Pleasantly satisfied with her friend's reaction, Kristen continued. "And one more thing. The duke also happens to be falling in love with his duchess!"

"Oh, my!" Layne said, her eyes twinkling with exuberance. "What a mess!"

Kristen's eyebrows wiggled at her. "A delicious mess, I say."

The two friends shared a laugh.

"I have to agree with you, my dear friend." Layne chuckled and linking her arm through Kristen's. "Come on, let's head to Celeste's so we could fish out information about the Duke and Duchess of Redvers. I can sense jackpot hovering in the air today."

Giggling like a pair of children, Layne and Kristen continued their walk to the famous dressmaker's dress shop while their other friend, Dylan, tagged along behind them like a simpleton, still decoding the mystery on how to bend steel.

* * *

**Thank God! I've been trying to log into the site this orning (well, morning in the Philippines) but an error occurred with the logging in and all which pissed me off because I'vewanted to update so badly. But, anyhoo...**

**Favorite part of this chap is the one with Layne, Kristen and Dylan! HAHAHA They're a funny trio, aren't they?**

**I appreciate all your reviews! Really. Thank you for every suggestion and comment and praises. Hahaha. Even if I don't believe I really deserve them, they're all quite flattering still.**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! REVIEWS ARE LIKE CHOCOLATES AND I'M A CHOCOHOLIC WHO WHEN INDULGED WITH THE BEST CHOCOLATES GETS ON A TOTAL FRENZY RESULTING TO AVID WRITING AND INCESSANT UPDATING WHICH THEN RESULTS TO HAPPY AND PERFECTLY SATED READERS! But really, no pressure, at all. :)**


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Derrick Harrington was tired. He was exhausted and hadn't gotten enough sleep. But every time he would close his eyes and drift to sleep, the first thing that flashed in his mind was Massie's face; the first thought that would occur to him was the glaring fact that she was nowhere to be found.

It was as if she had suddenly disappeared in thin air. No one had seen her. He himself personally went to all the villages surrounding London and out of the capital, searching for her, asking questions, hoping that someone had seen her.

But nothing! A week had passed already and they still had no leads or any idea where she might be.

He felt helpless. The possibility that Massie met some danger along the road in the middle of the night kept eating him. The possibility that he would never see her again filled him with so much agony and pain. He had never thought in his entire life he would go through such troubles for a woman.

But then again, he had never thought he would be seized by a woman.

Maybe this was his punishment for spending most of his life, playing women, treating them like play toys which he could use for his amusement whenever he pleased and dispose whenever he tired of them. If this really was his punishment – losing the only woman he had ever loved without even her knowing of his feeling for her -, well, it was more than enough.

Currently sitting on the armchair facing the window in the master's bedroom – the room which held so many memories of passion-filled days with Massie -, he had never felt so… terrible in his entire life.

A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts.

The door opened and Trevor's head popped in. "Your Grace, dinner is ready."

Derrick didn't look back at him. He continued staring out the window, looking at the darkness that fell on majestic London. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

Trevor, looking unconvinced and uncertain, nodded though the duke wasn't looking at him and quietly closed the door, respecting his master's desire for privacy and silence to deal with his thoughts.

Derrick's "few minutes" turned into an hour, two hours, three until he forgot to come down for dinner. His head was just too full of thoughts and fears and the gnawing anxiety that Massie was in danger. He couldn't think of anything else. He hadn't thought of anything else ever since Bert came to his country home and told him that Massie was gone.

He didn't even allow the rumors spreading about him deter his determination in finding his wife. And that was quite impossible considering that _every _mouth in the capital was busy uttering to and fro speculations of Massie's disappearance.

News of the Duchess of Redvers's sudden flight in the middle of the night reached and spread around London the day after it happened. It only took one simple whisper about it and it grew into a country of mouths, gossiping about the duchess's flight. And because that the gossip passed on from one no-good blabber to another no-good blabber, several versions of the story were created.

Some said the duchess left because she caught the Duke of Redvers in bed with another woman while others speculated that the duke and duchess got into a heated argument about the townhouse and that the duke lashed out at the duchess which resulted into the duchess leaving in the middle of the night. There was a much worse version. The version which said that the duchess left the duke to be with another man and that other man was the Viscount of Bathurst. There was even a rumor running about that the duchess was juggling three men at a time.

But those were just that. Rumors. Nonsensical stories made up by people who had nothing else to do. That's the reason why Derrick didn't mind them, at all. He didn't wish to waste his time on such petty, foolish matters such as setting gossip straight. When he found Massie, told her he loved her and convince her to be with him again after he apologizes more than profusely, then that would be the time to set the lies straight. Simply by returning to London with Massie by his side will be proof enough that none of the rumors being spread was anything but the truth.

But before that, he needed to find his wife first. That was the foremost thing in his mind. He ignored the annoying voice in his mind saying that she was gone and she would never return to him because he had fucked up so good.

She was gone. She was gone. She was gone.

No! He won't let that happen! He won't. He will do everything – _everything_ – to find her.

He _will _find her.

He _will_.

He will…

* * *

On another street in fashionable London rested the Bathurst townhouse. A two-storey slightly Gothic structure with a basement and an attic, it was home of more than five viscounts of Bathurst already. Currently, the house laid in peace and darkness. The servants already retired in their beds, the rooms vacated, and the silence in the house indicating that all those in residence were already fast asleep.

But the bed of the Viscount of Bathurst was empty, the master's room in pitch black and missing of its master. Passing through the hall at the back of the house, a door was situated at the end. Past the door, a narrow staircase beheld the opener, leading to the attic.

A section of the house slightly separated from the house proper, the attic was a bit more… rugged in appearance. It was designed decades ago as a spare room for the Bathurst children where they could play all day. It was like a nursery in a way. It had dormer windows high above and didn't have the customary small dimensions for a regular attic. It was large as any of the rooms in the townhouse and also had a bed at one corner though no one actually made use of it aside from afternoon naps and such.

But since the title had been transferred legally on to Josh Hotz, the attic which looked more like a children's playroom had been remodeled. The wall colors had been changed into a pure paint of white which gave the room a sense of cleanliness and openness. The toys, cribs and bed were donated to a nearby orphanage and the only furniture in the room was a long chaise by the corner and an armchair by the window. The rest of the space in the room was vacated by paintings, finished and unfinished creations of the current handsome viscount.

The same viscount who was standing in front of a clear canvas standing at the middle of the room.

Josh stared at the blank painting canvas, his thoughts straying to the subject of the painting he was about to create.

The same subject he painted in every portrait in his studio.

The same subject who has currently disappeared and had if not half of the _ton_ wondering where she was.

_Where the hell was Massie hiding?_ He thought angrily as he reached for his palette of colors and paint brush on top of the table beside him. He figured that she needed time to think and God only knows how much she deserved some time alone. But she should have told someone where she would be going! That way, everyone won't be at the edge of their seats, wondering where the fuck she was and fearing for the worst that might have happened to her. For fuck's sake, gentlemen at Brooke's were even having wagers on what kind of danger she met on the road.

"_I bet my fortune she met some gang and got raped."_

"_I bet my five Thoroughbreds her coachman himself raped her!"_

"_Fools! I think the carriage she was riding fell of some river and she drowned along with it."_

He recalled the bickering of the no-good gentlemen at the club earlier when he dropped by to gather his winnings before he left London. Among the men were Lord Ferguson, Lord Paignton, Lord Arbry, and several other gentlemen who found humor and entertainment in the disappearance of the Duchess of Redvers. The only thing that kept Josh from pushing the table and draw them out was that he didn't need to waste his time correcting misconceptions among men who had no morals, at all. Instead, he left the club as soon as he gathered his winnings and went back to his studio, feeling more tensed than he already had been feeling.

But damn it, he was already going mad thinking of all the possible places she could be right now.

Places which they have searched already and there was still no sign of her.

Damn it, but he knew! Somewhere deep in his mind knew where she was yet he couldn't figure out where exactly that was. He spent most of the day in the attic, going through every painting, every portrait, he had of her. Paintings which he did every time he came home from spending a day with her. He would remember every conversation they had, pick up the gist of it, and put it to life through mixture and harmony of colors and lines on a blank canvas. For the past four years, he had filled the entire attic with paintings and some where sketches scattered about the floor.

All which he himself drew.

But no one knew about it. His tiny secret. His passion. His skill. No one knew except for his father and mother who had been dead for eight years already and of course, his most trusted servant, Masters, his butler. Not even the servants. Not even Massie.

Even the door to the attic was set so that no one can go in as they wished. It was always locked and he was the only one who had the key to unlock the knob. He himself did the cleaning – well, the necessary cleaning, at least. And he only escaped to the attic during nighttime when he knew the servants were well asleep.

But since Massie disappeared, he didn't care if the servants saw him disappearing behind the always-locked door at the end of the back hall. He needed the solitude and comfort his studio offered him and he needed the paintings – painting of her – to help him find where Massie was.

So far, nothing came to mind.

Yet he didn't give up. He knew the answer was just in one of the paintings. Specifically, in one of the memories the paintings held. More specifically, in one of the conversations which inspired the paintings.

Presently, he stood in front of the blank canvas, paint brush poised to paint while his other hand held the palette of colors. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated on Massie.

He thought of her the unusual color of her eyes which brightened whenever she laughed. He thought of her long hair and its soft curls. He thought of her lips and when curved into a smile could melt the coldest of hearts. He thought of her svelte body, her exquisite curves, outlined in a bronze gown – he chose the color because he knew it complimented her best. He thought of the determined glint in her eyes whenever she wanted to have something done and her stubbornness which always infuriated and amused him.

And he thought of the young woman who longed for the man she loved but didn't deserve her. He thought of the young woman who went through considerable pain for the man she loved with all her heart. He thought of the young woman who lost her firstborn child and her father in the same year. He thought of the young woman who desperately clung to her sanity, to her love when she barely had the strength to live anymore.

Then he thought of the woman who resurfaced from the pain. He thought of the woman who got on her first, stood strong, and fought for herself and all she believed in. He thought of the woman who devoted herself in making other people's lives better. He thought of the woman who rarely thought of her own life and happiness. He thought of the woman who took happiness in others. He thought of the woman who had helped more people than the people who helped her.

But most of all, he thought of the beautiful, then weak now strong, selfless woman he loved with all his heart, his mind and his soul.

Opening his eyes, he allowed those three parts of his body to command his hand holding his brush to paint and bring Massie to life in his canvas.

* * *

In a rented townhouse in the lower London – most commonly known as the slum area, a handsome blonde marquess laid awake on bed, his thoughts similar to the two other aristocrats.

Entirely nude and not the least bit embarrassed by it, his back propped against the headboard, Cameron Fisher, the Marquess of St. James, contemplated the beguiling emotions he felt towards Massie Harrington, the Duchess of Redvers, who everyone believed had disappeared in thin air, without any trace, without anyone knowing where she was.

Said emotions had started… bothering him since the night of the museum debut. The first time he saw the new duchess. The sight of her – so exquisitely beautiful, so inhumanly perfect, so utterly _delectable _– had stirred his Casanova blood cells and ignited a raging conflagration of lust. He came home from that museum opening with his sexual appetite increasing a hundred fold. He thought if he would exhaust himself and his angry lust with other women, he would be satisfied.

But no. He wanted her. Specifically, _her_.

So then he associated said beguiling emotions with lust. He had lots of them so that must be, he'd thought before.

But then again, if it were _just _lust alone, he wouldn't be so bothered by her sudden disappearance now, would he? If it were just lust, then why did he suddenly feel like something… important was taken from him? If his feelings bordered around lust alone, why was it he couldn't stop doing everything he can to find her and even more than he can?

Was it because…

"Impossible." He murmured, shocked, to himself. "Impossible."

"What's impossible, darling?" An utterly feminine voice sounded from the bathroom doorway.

Serena Penniworth – the woman he had been dallying with for a month now – stood, gazing at him, a lustful smile curving her lips. She was wearing nothing except the silk robe he had given her a week ago. The robe was open and the belt around her waist was untied, leaving no man in his imagination.

Cam shook his head. "Nothing."

"Oh, it didn't sound 'nothing', darling. In fact, you sounded quite surprised if you might ask me." Then she pulled away from the doorway of the bathroom and walked to him, swaying her hips seductively. Upon reaching the bed, she placed her hands on the bed, bent as she was, and crawled to him like a cat. "Now tell me what has been bothering you so you can…" Stopping between his thighs, she stared up at him and lowered her eyes, giving him a sultry glance. "…have your way with me again." She purred.

If he wasn't so confused and bothered, Cam would have jumped up at the opportunity of making love to the sexy vixen. Or any woman, at all. But as it happened, he _was _confused and bothered with his… emotions – he inwardly cringed at the word – and not even Circe herself could get his libido up.

He stared back at the woman knelt before him. She really was a beautiful young miss. That was the reason why he was so ardent in bedding her when he first met her at the markets a month ago. She had been picking some of the fresh newly-delivered fruits and he had been passing by in his curricle. When he had seen her, he simply knew he had to bed her. So he got out of the curricle, introduced himself to the beautiful miss, and used his full-blown Romeo charm on her which left her – as all the other women he had used it on – half-besotted with him by the time he ended. But when he'd asked her if she would come back to his townhouse with him, she had denied his invitation and told him her mistress would look for her and fire her if she wouldn't return to the house.

That was when he'd realized she was a governess.

But a sexy governess and after a moment of hesitation, he insisted that they would be done soon and she would be back to her mistress without having getting scolded or fired. And then he'd used several more seduction tricks and then – bam! He had her, bedded her, and again and again for the next four weeks.

Though he never really knew which family she was working for but it didn't really matter. He needed her for selfish and crude reasons and with no personal string attached.

Lately, he hadn't been able to concentrate on her. His mind had been elsewhere and he couldn't bring himself into pleasure which left him and her in annoyance.

Raising his hand, he placed it on her cheek. "Darling, you know the past four weeks have been beyond amazing. And you know I adore you so."

Serena grinned pleasantly. "As I you, _mon amour_."

"Yes." Cam's voice took a grave tone which made Serena tense. "That's why I feel awful having to let you go."

Serena coiled as if he struck her with his hand. "_What_?" She screeched. "But – but –"

"You're sputtering, my sweet." He said as he leaned forward to put his hands on her arms and lift her effortlessly on the space beside him.

"You can't possibly mean to end us!" She wailed, one sleeve was down her elbow, exposing her entire left breast which was heaving as her breathing got more ragged and deeper.

That statement and the implication of it annoyed him. This was the reason why he avoided dealing with unsophisticated innocents. "Of course, I can, my dear. This was just a temporary liaison. I told you the mechanics of our dalliance from the beginning, remember, my sweet? Surely you didn't think once I popped your cherry that I would marry you."

Somehow, what he said angered her. Her hand came up and met his cheek in an excruciating smack.

If he were a man, Cam would have killed her already. But she was a woman and he was a gentleman who didn't hurt women. Even exasperating simpering misses such as her. He remained calm yet his tone took an edge when he next spoke. "I'll let that one pass, _chèrie_." And then he stood up and started dressing.

Serena's eyes widened as she realized he wasn't changing his mind. "But I love you!" She continued even if she saw that he stilled. "Don't you have any heart? I love you and you'll just leave?"

Cam remained silent and motionless. Serena thought she had succeeded. Her hopes were drained when he started buttoning his breeches again. "And I adore you, Miss Penniworth, but I'm not that sort of man. You deserve someone better than me and you'll find that man someday. You're beautiful, smart and sensual. I assure you you'll catch someone's eyes and several more." He started putting on his shirtsleeves and boots.

Serena crawled hurriedly to the end of the bed. "But you're the one I love! I don't want anyone else!"

Cam sighed impatiently. He decided to be honest with her. "And I am honored, Miss Penniworth, but I do not have any plans on settling down. If you thought I bedded you and had any intention on marrying you, then you thought wrong. Yes, I enjoyed our time together but there's nothing more there is to that. We had a sexual affair with no strings attached. I know you're an intelligent young woman so I know you understand what I mean very well." He put on his coat and went for the door. "I already rented the townhouse for a year so you can come any time you want. You will be assured of privacy since there is no staff here and I have no future plans on coming back." Reaching for the doorknob, he looked back at the furious naked woman on the bed. "I wish you a good life, Miss Penniworth. Goodbye." He was already in the hallway when he heard her.

"She'll never have you, you insolent fool!" She screamed, half-mad, tears in her voice. "If you think you have any chance with her, you don't because she will see past you and see the asshole you really are! Wait and see, Cam, you'll be back! You'll come back to me because she will deny you!"

And her words haunted Cameron Fisher for the rest of that night – or rather, morning.

* * *

Meanwhile, kilometers away from the capital, the subject of the three handsome aristocrats' troubled thoughts lay in bed, deep in her slumber, locked in a nightmare of her own.

She was surrounded by tall walls of vines and leaves. It was dark and she had been running around for quite some time now but she couldn't find any means of escape. She was lost in a garden maze like those in Greek myths. She was lost and it was dark and she didn't know which way was out. She turned to a corner as she started to panic.

And then she heard footsteps.

She stopped and looked back, thinking that someone had come to save her. "Help me! I'm here! Help me, please!" She called out.

A dark figure appeared at the alley behind her.

Relief coursed through her and she raised her hand, waving at her mysterious savior.

The figure started to ascend towards her and she tried to meet him, thinking it would be easier for him instead of walking all the way to where she was, but something prevented her from moving to her savior. She started to tell him that she couldn't move her feet until the figure got close enough for her to notice that he was holding something on his left hand.

Only when he was about a yard from her that she recognized it.

It was a butcher knife and was glistening with red liquid.

Blood.

Suddenly, she could move her feet again. She ran and the figure must have seen the initial panic in her eyes because he suddenly sprinted into a full run after her. She increased her pace and step. She kept running and running and running until she was well away from him.

But then she tripped.

She tried to stand up but she couldn't move again. Her entire body was immobilized. Behind her she could hear that her pursuer had slowed his pace, noticing her vulnerable position.

Her eyes had started to tear up when she caught sight of a figure standing several yards from her. The figure was certainly a man because his structure and height. He was tall and muscular and he seemed like looking at her.

She tried to squint her eyes so she would recognize him but the distance was just too far.

She heard the footsteps of her pursuer just a foot behind her and she knew she had no choice left but to shout at the other figure.

"HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE! HELP ME!" She screamed with all her might, hoping that he could hear her.

The last thing that she felt was the initial prick of the blade on her back and the last thing she saw was the figure running towards her until darkness evaded.

Massie woke up, jolting upright on the bed. Her breathing was heavy, her chest felt like it was about to explode. She realized that her body was trembling and she was sweating despite the fact that the climate was cool.

That was the third time she had the same dream – that same nightmare – ever since she arrived in her papa's river house. She always had the same dream, three days a row now, and it always ended at that part.

It was starting to scare her already.

She was alone in a secluded river house and there was a pathway leading on to the village but the house was well-hidden and no one knew about the place save for the couple who took care of the house.

That was it. No one knew about the place and she was perfectly safe. The caretakers were loyal servants of her papa and mama and they had sworn not to tell anyone that she was there. No matter who it was, the secret that the Duchess of Redvers was staying in the river house was to be remained to them only.

So there was no reason to panic. She was perfectly safe.

But why was it she couldn't get rid of the lingering fear?

Massie shivered as she thought of the dream again.

No. It was just a dream. Just a dream.

Despite that, she hadn't allowed herself to sleep, fearing that once her eyes would shut, the nightmare would start again.

* * *

**Questions will be answered in the next chapter because I'm in a hurry.**

**Seriously, though, there were only 4 people who reviewed in the previous chapter. Seriously, guys, four? I fear I'm disappointed and discouraged. :(**

**I HOPE THIS TIME, MANY (MAAANY) WILL REVIEW BECAUSE WE'RE GETTING TO THE GOOD PART. :D  
**


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

A crash sounded from the second landing of the townhouse of the Duke of Redvers at Upper Brook Street.

Julia turned from the dishes she was cleaning to Trevor who was sitting at the table in the kitchen. "That's the third time today." She commented with disapproval.

Trevor nodded grimly. "I believe it was the Chinese vase this time."

Julia shook her head. "What is that boy doing?" She murmured almost too herself.

Two more days had passed and they still had no idea on where Massie might be. There were several leads but they had all been incorrect. Some said they spotted a carriage with the Redvers crest pass by Bath. Some said they caught a glimpse of the duchess in a dress shop in Newport.

But when they searched the area, Massie Harrington was not there and had never been there.

The irksome developments drove the duke to edge until he suddenly snapped yesterday and started the day with a temper that could rival Zeus's. Yesterday, he had yelled and reprimanded every servant in the townhouse, had complained at every thing his eyes would lay upon. Today, he started the day with a crash. When Trevor and Julia had rushed into the library, they saw glasses splattered every where on the crowd.

Apparently, he got tired yelling at everybody and decided to break things.

Claire who was helping Julia with drying the plates and glasses with a cloth sighed. "Haven't they found anything?" She asked. "I thought every station in and out of London has been told about Her Grace disappearance. If she went abroad, surely, someone would have noticed."

"That's the problem." Trevor said. "No one noticed anything."

Shaking her head, she turned around and leaned against the countertop, a frown on her face. "Where could she be?"

Trevor shrugged. "We don't know, child. We don't know."

Julia also stopped cleaning the plate she was holding and faced the two. "When Ramsey returned last night, he told me that there was a lot of prank information telling them of the poor lass's destination. Before he went out this morning to join the others in search, he told me there's even a possibility we would never find the duchess."

Claire gasped, her hand covering her mouth while her eyes started to water. "Oh, no! Surely, something will come out and lead them to her. Poor duchess. She had always been so good to me when no one was. I couldn't imagine the house without her." She sniffed.

Julia, fighting back the tears that started to gather at the corners of her eyes, went to comfort the young woman. "There, there, child. Let's just stay positive and keep hope that they would find her."

Over Claire's head, Julia met Trevor's eyes and she saw the sadness in them which she was sure her eyes also projected.

* * *

Another crash echoed through the walls of the library and this time, it was one of the liquor glasses that shattered into pieces on the floor.

Standing beside the liquor bar of the study, Derrick leaned against the counter, with one hand gripping a glass filled with the strongest whiskey. His eyes looked bloodshot after drinking more than ten glasses since dawn and he smelled like a bottled-case of liquor. He eyed the glasses on the ground with a bored expression, the sense of giving up hovering around him.

He had looked for her _everywhere _and had gone to the same places for more than a hundred times. Same people, same stories, same findings. No Massie. Yet he hadn't given up yet. He'd kept looking at her, not stopping to breathe or even eat. He'd been relentless in finding her.

And after a week and two days, he still hadn't found her.

Last night, around midnight, he'd still been awake, pacing his bedroom, letting all his emotions out. Anger. Fear. Impatience. Guilt. Pain. Anguish. Everything. He'd let it all out and they'd kept him awake until the wee hours of morning.

Then around four o'clock, he'd stopped pacing and suddenly realized that he'd done everything he can. He'd done everything anyone would do and more. But he simply cannot find her.

Around five in the morning, he'd walked to his study, intending to drown away all his foolishness, his stupidity, accepting the fact that she was gone and would never come back to her.

Now, he was celebrating his loneliness and frustration after giving up looking for her.

A knock on the door interrupted his drunken thoughts and a moment later, it opened and Trevor's head popped in. "Your Grace?"

"What is it?" He sounded clipped and annoyed. He eyed his glass and even though it was full, he reached for the bottle of whiskey on the bar top and poured some of the liquid into his glass.

"You have a guest, sir." He said.

The glass was now overfilled with the strong liquid but Derrick continued pouring. He ignored that some of the liquid had cascaded down onto the floor. "I thought I told you I'm hardly in the mood to entertain some bimbo, Trevor."

"Even me, darling?" A seductive purr came from the doorway followed by the sound of the doors closing.

Derrick stopped his pouring and lifted his gaze to the doorway where he found the Countess of Groveland, standing with a catlike smile playing on her lips. She was clad in a brazen mauve walking dress which had a little too low décolletage and was tight around the bust and hips. The tight bodice pushed her delectable breasts which were less-than-partly concealed by her daring neckline. To heighten her extravagance, a pair of diamond earrings clung to her ears and a large diamond necklace nestled around her neck.

It was a dress which would have brought every man to their knees.

But Derrick's expression remained emotionless as if she were wearing a rag. "Haven't you heard I said I'm not in the mood of entertaining _bimbos_, my dear?" His voice sounded cruel yet despite his many glasses of alcohol, his voice didn't slur with drunkenness.

A tick momentarily appeared at Alicia's cheek but she quickly covered it. "Nonsense, darling. We've been friends for a long time now and I know you are currently in a state of… distress."

"And this concerns you because?" Derrick rudely asked.

Alicia sauntered towards him, displaying the seductive sway of her hips. Pausing in front of him, she raised one long fingertip to his cheek then slowly and provocatively, traced an invisible crooked line down to his lips, his neck, chest then paused at his lower stomach. "Well, I thought I could help you relieve some of the stress." Then her finger continued its journey downward.

In a flash, Derrick let go of his glass and whisked her hand away from him. He slid his hand to her slender wrist and his fingers closed around them in a steel-like grip. He pulled her to him and looked down at her, his eyes narrowing to slits, the expression in them dangerous. "Listen closely, _Alicia_" he uttered his name with dark sarcasm. "I've had enough with your poor attempts of seducing me. I decided against being honest with you because I did not want to hurt ladies' feelings." His eyes slid cruelly over her body. "Even shameless bitches such as you."

Alicia gasped, outraged, at the insult.

"But apparently, you prefer honesty." Derrick continued. "I would like it if you would stop sashaying your breasts and ass like a common whore in front of my face whether in public or private. If you think it would arouse me, the effect is otherwise, my dear. I am disgusted by you and you have always been just a woman for my entertainments. You're lust and sexual appetite is insatiable and suits mine well but you're ability to comprehend intellectually is less than zero. Ever since my return, I haven't planned on reuniting with you, not then, not now, not ever. And in future if you would get bored with the men you spread your thighs for, don't go barging into my townhouse as if you have any right to do so. Do I make myself clear?"

Alicia's answer was an intense glare that could have burned him to ashes.

Derrick grinned, pleased. "Good." He said, releasing her wrist. "Now, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't linger anymore and leave my home at once." He politely added, dismissing her.

Alicia huffed and turned around, stomping her way to the door as steam came off her ears. Pausing with the door already opened, she looked back at him with a deadly smirk on her face. "Your beloved wife will never return to you, Red. No matter how hard you try, you'll never become the loyal husband she wants you to be. And when she kicks you out, you'll be back to me. Mark my words, Derrick Harrington, you'll be the rakehell that you've always been and she'll leave you again." Then with her smirk widening and becoming viler, she added, "If you'll ever find her."

In four long strides, Derrick had crossed the room to the doorway with every intention of strangling devil's advocate but Alicia was already out and had closed the door right in front of his face.

Her chilling laughter echoed throughout the halls of the second landing and traveled all over the house.

Hours later, Derrick was lounging on the seat behind the desk in his study, his head reeling from all the alcohol he had donned since dawn and his exasperating encounter with the impertinent Countess of Groveland. He was close to dosing when he heard several footsteps and voices from the hall outside.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but His Grace made it clear that he won't be taking any visitors today." Trevor's voice anxiously told the owner of the other set of footsteps. "My lord!"

A second later, the door to the study banged open and Josh entered, looking like he was about to burst in anticipation. Trevor followed a second later, looking annoyed and at the same time, curious of why the Viscount of Bathurst was so buoyed.

"I know where she is!" Josh announced.

Derrick's senses came awake at once and he sat up, his migraine forgotten. "How? Where?"

"I was painting her –"

"You paint?" Derrick sounded shocked. He didn't know his friend painted.

Josh looked at him with an annoyed expression. "Yes, I do but that's not important. Do you want to find your wife or what?"

Derrick nodded, pursing his lips and locking his questions away for later. "I apologize. Go on."

Josh rolled his eyes but continued. "I was painting her while I recalled all conversations we had. Then it hit me this morning when I tried to paint her standing by the river. She told me before – I don't when exactly – but I remembered that she mentioned to me about a river house his papa and mama owned just a few hours from London. She said it was his papa's gift to her mama when they wedded and it was always her parents' favorite place when they wanted peace and privacy. The river house is well-secluded and the pathway to the village is concealed. Only she, her parents, and an old couple who worked as caretakers of the house know about it."

"Do you know where exactly it is?" Derrick asked impatiently.

Josh nodded and told him.

Derrick stood up, his fist coming down onto to desk in a loud thump. "We've circled that village more than twenty times, damn it!"

Josh went to stand in front of his desk. "Yes but as I said earlier, the road to the house is hidden from the main road and no one knows about the river house. The people in that village are superstitious folks and they believe that wandering off to other roads aside from the main road will cause death." He rolled his eyes again.

Trevor who had been lingering by the doorway spoke hesitantly but there was a hint of hope in his tone when he asked, "My lord, are you sure the duchess is in this river house you say?"

Josh turned back to him. "I would bet my life on it."

"Then, that's enough." Derrick said, his body impatient to move and go to Massie. "Trevor, go get my curricle ready and tell Tom I won't be needing him to drive me." He barked out his command to his butler who went to do his bidding and stood up, racing to the door, thinking Josh was following him.

He glanced back, noting his friend hadn't moved an inch. "Aren't you coming, Josh?" He asked, a subtle impatience in his tone. He couldn't afford to waste time when he could be on the road now, on his way to his wife. But he had to ask since he was the one who figured out where Massie was and Derrick had seen his efforts of searching for his wife. Screw the fact that he loved her, Derrick still saw Josh as his best friend.

Josh shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "Nah. I wouldn't want to intrude."

Derrick turned fully to face him, crossing his arms on his chest. "You? Afraid to intrude?" He sounded sarcastically shocked.

Josh chuckled. "No, really, Red. I know – and I fully expect –" he added with a hard look "that you two would sit and speak calmly over what has happened in the past so you both can move on and be together. I see that you love her now and I've always known the stubborn woman never stopped loving you. And it will already be awkward without having me as your audience." He joked half-heartedly.

Derrick looked uncertain. "Are you sure you -"

Josh shook his head again. "I'm sure, Red. This is something you both need and have to deal with in private."

After a moment's hesitation, Derrick nodded. "Well, then, I appreciate the help. I'll bring her back." He said before turning around to leave and go to his bedroom to change.

But Josh's voice stopped him. "Hey, Red?" He called out.

Derrick looked back and waited.

"I need you to do something for me."

"I'll help you. What is it?" Derrick asked.

A wicked smile tugged at the corners of Josh's lips. "Give Massie a kiss for me." He said.

Derrick's eyes glazed with temper as he thought of what Josh said then he opened his mouth to shout at him until he noticed the teasing grin on his friend's face. He relaxed at once. "Go to hell."

Josh's raucous laughter ringed in his ears like an irritating gong.

Derrick entered the master bedroom and went to his dressing room, stripping his clothes off as if they were on fire. He didn't pay any heed to the shirtsleeve he fished out from his closet or the waistcoat and breeches he took out from another closet and a drawer, respectively. He dressed in a hurry and when he paid more than a few seconds to check if he put on the right article of clothing and if he had buttoned every buttons or cuffed every cuffed or zipped every zipper, he dashed out of the dressing room and therefore, the master bedroom. He flew down the corridor and down the staircase.

Trevor had the front door open already and he was holding it for him. "I ordered your curricle, Your Grace, seeing that you're more comfortable driving it." Trevor informed him when he got to the door.

"Yes, thank you. Keep the house safe and well while we're not here." Derrick said, going down the front porch steps. "I wager we'll be here tomorrow." His coachman was standing by his curricle and he handed the whip to Derrick when the duke reached him.

Derrick nodded to him and got up the ride, settling himself comfortably.

"Um, Your Grace?" Derrick turned at the address.

Trevor was on the second step of the front porch stairs, looking awkward.

Derrick inclined his head for him to continue.

"Please convey our affections to the duchess." Trevor began, uncomfortable. "The entire staff misses her terribly so. The townhouse is not complete without her in it."

Derrick knew Trevor ever since he was a boy and though he knew him to be caring and loving, Trevor rarely showed his vulnerable emotions. Yes, he constantly rebuked and scolded Derrick and Josh when they were young and even now but when stating emotions such as care and love in words, Trevor wasn't that type of person. He showed his affection through his actions though subtle as they may be, but it was there.

And Derrick had a great feeling that his butler wasn't entirely speaking in general. Plus, the fact that he looked so uncomfortable. It only showed how much he cared for Massie so much.

Derrick was humbled by the knowledge.

Trevor cleared his throat. "Now, go on, boy. What are you waiting for? Go." He said in his usual haughty self as if to regain from his moment of weakness.

Derrick smirked. "Could've fooled me." He muttered then with a crack of his whip, the curricle lurched and rumbled forward.

As Derrick drove the streets of London, he thought of finally seeing Massie. In just a few hours, he would reach the village and therefore, the river house. He just hoped that Massie wouldn't be too stubborn to let him in and hear him out.

Let him out and hear him in, he thought with a dry smile.

But either way, he will get her to listen even if he had to do it outside the house or even across the river.

* * *

While Derrick had tirelessly been on the road for the next hours, Massie was entertaining two guests in the river house. It was around six in the evening and she had been cooking some potato salad when the doorbell rang and the river house's caretakers came in with a smile and a platter of tuna casserole on Mrs. Fithcombe's hands.

They had come to keep her company as they had been doing three days after she arrived. Lately, they had been busy with their farm so they hadn't visited Massie. Nevertheless, the young duchess was happy for the company.

Mr. and Mrs. Fithcombe, a middle-aged couple keen yet vibrant, had stayed in the river house ever since her parents hadn't visited anymore. That way they could take better care of the house. Their children were all grown up and had families of their own but the couple did have a barn an hour and a half from the river house though one would have to take a different route. They only stayed at the barn when someone occupied the river house.

It was the first time since her parents' visit had the couple taken a day – or rather, a week – off from river house duties.

Upon her arrival, they'd been shocked at seeing her and they hadn't even recognized her, at first. But her similarities with her parents struck them and they knew who she was then. They'd been happy seeing her and had given her a key to the river house which they had been taking care of for the past decades.

Whenever they visited her in the past week, Massie knew the most obvious question had been lingering at the tip of their tongues but Massie had deftly, as much as possible, skirted around the question and steered the topic away from that direction.

But tonight, the inevitable came.

They were in the living room, talking, sipping the tea Massie had prepared for them, when Mrs. Fithcombe finally asked the question.

"Dear, George and I have been wondering since you arrived, why on Earth did you suddenly decide to visit? And at the crack of dawn, for Heaven's sake! Only with a coachman as a guard!"

Mr. Fithcombe, a short bald man yet with a generous smile, grunted. "And not a very good one, if you ask me." He muttered referring to Massie's coachman who'd chosen to stay in one of the inns in the village though the carriage was parked at the side of the house

His wife glanced at him then nodded in agreement. "Don't get us wrong, my dear, it's nice to finally see you. When your mama and papa last came, your mama had already been a week pregnant with you and they never visited after that. We miss them actually." She sniffed, her eyes starting to water, then she fished a handkerchief from her small old purse, using it to dab at the corners of her eyes.

Mr. Fithcombe, George, narrowed his eyes at his wife and he cleared his throat. "Yes, and we heard that you married a duke. The Duke of Redvers, we heard. We may be far from society but news such as that reaches the place. We hate to intrude but the question's been wanting to be asked for a week now, child. I hope you forgive our prying."

Massie smiled understandingly. She reached for Mary Anne's hand – the couple was sitting on a chaise at Massie's left – and patted it. Then she glanced at her husband. "Don't worry. I don't mind. There's been a misunderstanding in London and I decided to give myself a break from all the stress in the capital so that's why I'm here."

The couple glanced at each other; Massie noticed it. "Is there something wrong?" she asked.

Mr. Fithcombe cleared his throat again. "Er, nothing, child." He started to say but his wife elbowed him. He cleared his throat for the third time to Massie's amusement albeit she hid it. "There's been a group of men and a few gentlemen passing by the village, asking questions, for the past week."

Massie raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Questions about what?"

"You." George answered after a moment's hesitation. "They've been looking for you, child. And the duke, your husband, was with them, asking everyone questions, tearing up the place, posting rewards to those who would find you."

Mrs. Fithcombe nodded. "I was there buying in the market when he came and asked questions." Then a twinkled lighted her eyes. "Let me just say your husband is simply handsome like a Roman god, child." After saying that, she giggled like a little girl.

"Mary Anne!" George looked outraged and disbelieving.

His wife feigned a look of innocence. "What? There is nothing wrong with stating the obvious, George."

George shook his head. "You'd think she's still eighteen." He told Massie with a look of defeat.

Which made Massie laugh genuinely. "Yes, he is quite handsome." _Mary Anne was right. What's wrong with stating the obvious? _She thought.

"Quite? He's more than quite handsome, Massie, dear." But she didn't elaborate when she saw her husband's glare.

Massie simply chuckled though she didn't agree or disagree with what Mrs. Fithcombe said about Derrick.

Massie good-heartedly changed the topic so as to spare Mr. George Fithcombe from a severe heart attack. Massie shared to them some of the latest happenings in London and they, in return, told her what had been happening in the village for the past years. Anything worth mentioning, they discussed, laughed and joked about them.

An hour later, George declared that it was already late and they should leave now before the road would be too dark for them to see. After saying goodbye, George went out first to ready their carriage.

Mrs. Fithcombe lingered by the front porch. She turned to Massie who was standing by the doorway and embraced her in a farewell hug. "It takes faults and obstacles to bring out the real person in a person, Massie. Remember that."

At Massie's confused expression, Mary Anne laughed and patted her cheek. "Whatever problems you're now facing, dear, you'll overcome it. Don't make hasty decisions and listen to all angles of the problem. There's no such thing as a one-sided problem, Massie."

With that, the old woman walked away and joined her husband, leaving Massie dealing with yet another puzzle by the doorway.

Then she chuckled and turned around, closing the front door behind her. Mrs. Fithcombe was indeed a strange old woman with all her mystifying advices and sometimes out-of-this-world riddles. But something about what she said told Massie that not listening to her advice would not be something she would like to do. There was something about her riddle that made Massie think and made her ponder things more thoroughly which left her half-attentive, half-distracted to preparing her dinner.

She finished making her salad and had the tuna casserole unwrapped from the foil and had it transferred on a plate. She made some orange juice and placed all the food on the small table in the kitchen. There was a dining room in the house but Massie felt more comfortable in the kitchen where table was smaller than the dinner table and had only three chairs in comparison to the six chairs around the dining table. The small table offered her some small comfort. It made her not dwell much on being alone and lonely in such isolated place.

Realizing there were too many thoughts in her head, she momentarily lost her appetite. She decided to go out back to the open lawn leading to the hilltop. She went out through the kitchen door and leaned against the wall beside it, looking at the hilltop, her mind elsewhere.

Surely Mary Anne didn't know that the reason why she decided to leave London was because of her husband? But even Massie knew that it was ridiculous thinking that the old woman would think otherwise. The fact that her husband had been looking for her all over London and the villages outside London and he'd appeared, she deduced, desperate only proved that said misunderstanding in London was actually a dispute with her husband.

The week-long hermitage in the river house had given her a lot of time to think things through without any distractions and during the week, she had come up with several decisions already. Every decision was thoroughly pondered, mused, and calculated so she believed none of it was a "hasty decision" as Mary Anne had put it. She had decided that if ever Derrick was still determined to talk to her and explain, she would listen to her with an open heart, an open mind, and an open soul. She would listen to him and decide and maybe if he really was sincere, she would forgive him. And if he really was genuine and sincere in his intention to get back with her, then maybe she would also agree to that.

But these decisions had taken up most of her time because she thought of herself as cheap if she consented to these decisions, then options. But who was she kidding? She was still in love with the man, damn him, despite of all she had gone through. But who could she blame? Her heart? No. She didn't even know who to blame. Him, at first, but then she thought of it and it wasn't really his fault. And she didn't to say that it was hers, though it really was partly hers.

But the fact that she was still in love with Derrick and the fact that she was exhausted from all the fighting led to said decisions.

Yet the one important thing that hadn't been decided yet was _when_.

When was she ready to face London again? When was she ready to return to London? Was a week-long retire enough to return and face everything again? She knew that her revelation to Derrick – and she also knew that Josh must have told him everything already – have left him in a turmoil of thoughts. Maybe he was the one who wasn't ready to face her yet and if she would return, it would only complicate and worsen things.

But he'd come and looked for her. Surely, that meant something.

Right?

Letting out a groan, Massie leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, focusing on the feel of the cool evening breeze against her skin.

Too focused and absorbed with her thoughts, Massie didn't hear the doorbell from the front door.

* * *

Derrick had followed Josh's directions and after four hours of driving on the road, he had finally found the hidden road leading to the river house. It was narrow and was the epitome of inconspicuous. The road was hidden behind trees and bushes, hardly inviting to any passer-bys. Less than half an hour later, Derrick caught a faint sound of water not a few yards from him and he kicked the reins, sending the curricle traveling faster.

The sight that met him at the end of the narrow road was hardly inconspicuous.

The house was a fairly-sized two storey cottage. It had a full front porch, two windows at the first landing and three above. It was simple yet the river at its side was what mystified the place.

It took his breath away.

Forcing himself from the trance, he led the horses galloping onto the pavement leading to the house. Stopping the curricle just by the driveway, he got down and secured the reins in the box. After soothing the exhausted horses, he finally made his way to the front porch.

He spotted a doorbell beside the door and rang it once.

No answer.

He rang it again.

Still none.

He rang it thrice, four times, five… He was getting impatient. Leaning to the side, he tried to peep through the window but the damned floral curtains obstructed his view of the inside of the house.

"Damn it, where the hell is she?" He muttered to himself.

He rang the doorbell a few more times before a thought occurred to him. He curled his fingers around the doorknob and twisted it.

The door opened.

"Way to go, Derrick. Thank the stupid woman for not locking her door." He told himself.

God, the woman had reduced him to a mumbling bimbo. He vaguely remembered the gardener in their estate who had gone loco and suddenly started talking to himself one day.

Back then, he'd sworn on his wooden collection of armies that he would never turn into someone like their gardener. But as it happened, he had no wooden collections of armies. He had plastic collection of armies, navies and air forcers.

Karma, indeed, was a painful stick in his ass.

Putting aside his mental monologue, he settled on looking for his wife. Scanning the small parlor and the dining room which he found empty, he moved to the kitchen. It was average-sized, had wooden stoves, sink, a small countertop and a small table which was pushed against the wall and had three chairs around it. It seemed that Massie had prepared dinner yet hadn't eaten them.

He surveyed the food on the table and checked if it was prepared for one or two. After he was assured that his wife hadn't left London to be in the middle of nowhere and invite jackasses over for dinner (he rolled his eyes at the thought), he was about to turn around when the kitchen door which he hadn't noticed since he was too preoccupied with his harassing, out-of-control jealousy, opened.

* * *

Massie hadn't realized she had dosed off until she felt something on her arm. Her eyes opened and she blinked, staring at the tiny black figure on her arm. Then she realized it was a mosquito.

Slapping the insect away, she stretched and yawned, thinking that she was no better than a stray dog who could sleep in command, whenever, wherever it might be.

Massie fleetingly smiled dryly as she remembered her second fight with Derrick since their marriage. It had included him comparing her to a dog. Apparently, the comparison stuck to her up to now and she would compare herself to a dog without any qualms.

She shook the thought away and pulled from her position against the wall. When her hand reached for the doorknob on the door to the kitchen, she'd realized she must have dosed for quite some time because her arms which had been crossed over chest ached. Massaging her forearms with her hands, she pushed the door open with her hip and continued soothing her muscles, paying no attention to her surroundings.

Including the man who was standing at the middle of the kitchen, before the countertop at the center, near the threshold. The man who was waiting for her to acknowledge him as relief of finally seeing her after a week-long of desperate searching, anguish and guilt swarmed through him.

Massie had been mumbling to herself of how stupid she was for falling asleep standing up at the back of the house where she had been a glaring target for mosquitoes and other cursed insects when she suddenly bumped her hip against the edge of the countertop.

She cursed a litany of profanities and involuntarily glanced up.

Then she realized she wasn't alone.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other as if they were trying to assure themselves that this was not a hoax or a figment of their imagination. That this was real. That they were really in front of each other.

Massie couldn't read the expression in Derrick's eyes. They were just too many… to muddled. Impatience? Most probably. Relief? Possibly. Longing? Adoration? Definitely undoubtedly not possible.

Derrick was the first one to make a move.

He shoved his fists in the front pockets of his breeches and a small, boyish (she couldn't help but be stunned by the look of shyness) smile curved his lips.

He spoke the word they have been waiting for.

"Hi."

* * *

**Argh! Finally. HAHAHA. **

**Do you know how I felt when I opened my email yesterday and found that no one reviewed? TERRIBLE. FREAKIN' TERRIBLE. :'( HAHA. But thankfully, it was just some and I quote pansy25 "bug" Fanfiction had.**

**_Tram aka DerenaMassington20 - _Of course, I will DEFINITELY read your story if ever you post one. :)**

**To everyone else, thankyouthankyouthankyou so much! You made my day great already. And it's just ****8:30 here in the morning. I'm sorry if I can't reply to everyone's reviews but I will start replying individually because I think that's the least I can do to express my gratitude.**

**Anyway, just before I say "REVIEW", let me just say that Alicia doesn't wait for the grass to grow, does she? Damn hussy. :|**

**AND NOW FOR MY FAVORITE PART! VIRTUAL SWEETS AND REVIEWS! ONLY GAVE ME A VIRTUAL CHOCOLATE WHICH I DEVOURED IN JUST A SEC. THIS TIME, I'M HAVING VIRTUAL VANILLA ICE CREAMS FOR DESSERT WITH A CHERRY REVIEW ON TOP! HAHAHA :D  
**


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

_For a moment, they simply stared at each other as if they were trying to assure themselves that this was not a hoax or a figment of their imagination. That this was real. That they were really in front of each other._

_Massie couldn't read the expression in Derrick's eyes. They were just too many… to muddled. Impatience? Most probably. Relief? Possibly. Longing? Adoration? Definitely undoubtedly not possible._

_Derrick was the first one to make a move._

_He shoved his fists in the front pockets of his breeches and a small, boyish (she couldn't help but be stunned by the look of shyness) smile curved his lips. _

_He spoke the word they have been waiting for._

"_Hi."_

* * *

What he said and the way he looked brought a small spontaneous smile on Massie's face. "Hi." She said and waited.

Her smile and the fact that she hadn't threw him out and at first sight brought a suspicious frown on Derrick's face. He was instantly wary. Why was she suddenly nice and accommodating?

He didn't realize he'd voiced the question out loud until Massie lost her smile and cocked her head to the side.

"Would you prefer it if I throw you out or drown you in the river?" She asked, genuinely bemused.

Derrick moved too fast for her to understand his intention. All she knew was that she was suddenly enveloped in his arms, tightly embraced, with his nose buried at the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent.

"I thought I'd lost you forever." He murmured almost inaudibly against her skin. "Thank God you're safe."

The sensations of his hard body against hers and his breath tickling her skin caused Massie's nerves to stir. Suddenly, she felt like she couldn't breathe. She felt the room was suddenly closing in on her and gave her the feeling that she would suddenly find herself hyperventilating. She didn't want to talk to him while she was barely breathing or in the verge of swooning.

She could just imagine what that type of discussion would accomplish.

Shoving the thoughts aside, she mentally ordered her arms to move and travel to his chest. Then she pushed him away from her but he wouldn't allow her that. He tightened his hold around her. "No, no. Derrick, let me go." She said firmly.

"I can't and I won't." He was beyond comprehension now.

She took a deep breath and stopped struggling against him. Then she spoke in her sincerest and calmest voice. "Derrick, I'm not going anywhere. If you wish to talk, then I will be most amiable and listen to whatever it is you wish to say for I also have something to say in return. But in order for us to have a decent conversation, then unhand me first so I can breathe and think well."

Derrick thought of what she said, at first, then he pulled away but didn't let her go yet. There was no doubt in his mind that the sincerity and honesty shining brightly in Massie's eyes was false. He decided to do what she said and released her.

Massie staggered slightly but managed to balance herself by placing a hand on the counter. "Thank you." She managed to say then after a couple of inhaling and exhaling, she looked up at him. "Why are you here?"

She couldn't be dense, Derrick thought as his eyes widened in shock at the question. Surely, the answer to such ludicrous question was more obvious than the fact that she was female and he was male. But from the look of bemusement in Massie's eyes, he decided to educate her. "I have come to get you."

At that matter-of-factly said statement, Massie's eyebrow rose but then she frowned. "I'm sorry but I don't think I'm ready to return to London yet, Derrick. There are still things I've yet to figure out. And I don't need the distraction the _ton_ off – Derrick, what are you doing? No, get up. Are you crazy? Get off your knees! _Derrick!_" Massie broke off mid-explanation when Derrick suddenly went down on his knees right in front of her.

But he didn't stand up when he told her to. Instead, he held up his hand to indicate her to keep quiet which, surprisingly, she did do. "There are three reasons why I came to get you." He began. Now that he was here, ready to tell her everything, he suddenly didn't know where to begin but he just said the thoughts that flitted pass his mind. "First, is that everyone's been looking for you. They all miss you, Massie, and London's not the same without you." He held his hand up again when she opened her mouth to speak. "Let me finish." He told her before continuing.

"Second is that I'm sorry. I'm really truly undeniably undoubtedly regrettably immensely profusely sorry. I know that that might not be enough for you to forgive me but I'm so sorry for everything that I made you go through. I'm sorry that you had to marry a royal jackass like me. I'm sorry that I couldn't be mature enough and good enough to stay and deal with… everything. I'm sorry that I was the reason why you lost our baby." He cringed at the word "our".

Massie visibly blanched.

"If only I didn't leave, if only I wasn't the scumbag that I am, you wouldn't have… we wouldn't… the…" He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath before resuming what he was saying. "Nevertheless, I'm sorry and I'm still sorry for not making any sense right now even if what I'm trying to do is say sorry. I'm really sorry, Massie."

Massie opened her mouth.

"Third," he hurriedly said so she would understand the hint that she wasn't supposed to speak yet. "Third is… the easiest yet the hardest to say. Easiest because I already know what it is. Hardest because I'm unfamiliar and have never interacted with such… emotion. The third is the foremost reason why I've searched for you day and night for the past week, why I couldn't sleep, why I could hardly think of anything aside from you. What I'm trying to tell you is… that… I'm saying… I…"

Massie waited in silence as Derrick gathered his thoughts. She thought he looked like he was having a brain hemorrhaging.

She took pity in him. "Do you want to sit down?"

"No!" Derrick unintentionally growled. "It is important that I get this out more than anything else."

"All right." And she patiently waited.

Dragging a harsh breath, Derrick raked his hand through his hair in frustration. He already knew what to say but why can't he simply get the words out? Because he needed to say it perfectly. Massie – and he – didn't deserve a hasty "Incidentally, I love you" declaration as if it were some nonchalant statement he'd tell her as they passed each other on the stairs.

He simply had to say it right. Even more than right if such thing were possible.

"We're both actually the same yet also different at the same time, Massie." He was only half-aware he was speaking. "I have been born and raised as a man who would inherit and run estates, assume a title and a position in society, while you were prepared to become a gentleman's wife and stand behind him. We were both taught things such as proper decorum and social necessities. But where we differ, aside from the obvious difference in gender, is in the consequences of being male or female."

Massie didn't have any idea on where he was going but remained silent and listened.

Waited.

"I'm a man, Massie, and I grew up, becoming taught of how to live like one. Things such as gambling, drinking, dallying and fooling around are fixtures in my mind. I grew up with them, became too familiar with them, and found comfort in them because they are the only things I know I'm good at doing. I kept my distance from emotional connections with the women I slept with because that is the area I have not been trained to do well and the one area I expected myself to fail completely in. Love for me is a forbidden subject I had no desire to broach until I met you again."

At that statement, Massie's eyes widened, her mouth opened a bit, gaping slightly. "Wha –"

But Derrick cut her off. He took possession of one of her hands and held it in his. "I wondered why I couldn't seem to get you off my mind after we met at the Exhibition and then I thought I would have backed off when I knew who you were but it didn't deter my attention from you. Knowing who you were even increased my… fascination. I dismissed the feeling as lust. Yes, I did and do lust for you but when I started noticing little things about you, I knew it wasn't mere lust the way I felt about you. I didn't know what it was exactly but all I knew was that I would never let you slip through my fingers again. I was determined to have you back even if it killed me. Only when Bert came running like the devil to Harrington Place and told me you were gone did I recognize the strange… emotions."

He'd been stroking the outside of Massie's palm with his thumb while he was telling her those things. When he stopped and looked up, meeting Massie's confused yet nervous gaze. "I love you." He felt Massie stiffen and heard her sharp intake of breath. He tightened his hold on her hand, not letting her escape if that was what she had in mind. "I know there is a possibility that things might be too late for that but I love you, Massie. Only you. I have never said this to any woman in my life even to my mother but you're not like _any_ woman. You're stubborn. You're smart. You stand up for what you believe is right. And you're beautiful. Inside and out." Then he paused to crack an attractive smile. "You're actually the woman – the only woman – who I imagine can stand beside me. Not behind me or in front of me. But beside me, ruling my estate alongside me and dealing with life together. I love you and I will never let you go. This time, if you run away from me and escape, I will be three steps behind you, not letting you go too far. I just fervently hope that you would bestow me a second chance so that I can show you the man you have taught me to become." Then he placed a gentle but insistent kiss on Massie's hand.

The woman whose hand he was still tightly holding was beyond speechless. Massie could not believe what he said nor could she believe the man who was kneeling so humbly right in front of her was the notorious rake she had of a husband. She knew how much his… confession cost him. Albeit his words were ringing with genuine conviction, his face was contorted as if he were in pain. He was even sweating, for goodness's sake! Even if he hadn't said anything, Massie would have detected the sincerity in his body language.

The expression "Action speaks louder than words" came into her mind.

She would have forgiven him then and there! But she appreciated his words as much as she'd appreciated his obsequious action.

She was, by any words, moved by his surprising display. Her mind had refused to go on farther as soon as the words "I love you" left his mouth but she _forced _her ears to listen and her mind to understand.

She propelled herself to snap out of her stupor and move. "Derrick, stand up." She softly said.

Derrick obliged.

"Have you had dinner yet?" She asked, forcing a nonchalant tone, as she walked to a cupboard which she opened and from where she retrieved a plate and some utensils for him. Then she went to the table to arrange Derrick's place. "I'm sure you are famished. I have potato salad and tuna casserole from the caretakers. It's not much but since I'm not really that hungry, it would be enough for the two of us. Can you please get a glass from that cupboard over there?" She pointed to another cupboard beside the one she just opened.

Derrick was too confused to move, at first. What the hell was she playing? Hadn't she heard a word he said? As he kept on arguing and debating with himself, he went to do her bidding and fetched a glass from the cupboard she indicated. She had taken the seat beside the wall already and was filling the plate at the "head of the table" with food. He guessed he was to sit there so he did.

Uncertainly.

When he was already seated, he couldn't take her ignorance to his confession anymore.

He slammed his fist on the table. "Didn't you hear anything I said?" He demanded though he didn't intend to really _bellow_ the question at her.

Massie had the gall to narrow her eyes at him. "Kindly lower your voice, Derrick. I'd like to keep my ability to hear." She said. "I'll tell you my views on your… speech after you have dinner."

He slammed his fist again. "To hell with dinner. I want to hear what you think now, damn it!"

Massie glared at him. "So impatient." She muttered to herself. Nevertheless, Derrick heard it which made him turn livid. But then she sighed and placed her fork down on the plate. "All right then." She began. "With regards to your first reason, I do miss London and I haven't made plans of not coming back anymore. This is only a vacation of sorts from all the hurly-burly in the capital. I wanted to spend some time in a place where I could think freely and make decisions which will not be clouded by what society would think of me or what society expects me to do.

"On your second reason, well, before you even came barging into my house though I don't even know how you came inside –"

"Your front door was unlocked."

Massie's eyes widened. "Unlocked?"

Derrick nodded, keeping his temper inside as he remembered how angry he had been when he found out that her door wasn't locked.

Massie caught the flash of anger in Derrick's dark eyes and she, for some reason, instantly steered his mind from that topic. "As I was saying, I have already decided to forgive you should you ask for my forgiveness even before you came here tonight."

And then the third reason. She debated lying at first, skirting around the issue, but she decided since he had been so honest so far to her, the least she could do was to reciprocate the cost of confessing such an "unmanly" thing. "And about your last reason, I've never fallen out of love. Even when everything in my mind told me to forget you and move on, I simply couldn't get myself to _un_loving you. If you wish to pursue our marriage and give it a second chance, then I'll… agree with your… proposition. But –" she said "we have to take things slow and do it right this time because this is the second, only and last chance I'll be giving you, Derrick. If things won't go well…" She let the sentence hang in the air between them.

Derrick perked up. "No, no!" He said and captured her hands in both of his, kissing each of her hands. "Things will go well. We'll make it well. We'll do it right this time. I promise, Massie. I'll discontinue coming to brothels and dallying. You'll be the only woman for me, Massie. I promise."

"Going slow includes not letting lust cloud our relationship."

"Of course. Yes, of course. It would make things difficult and possibly result to the worst."

"Not letting lust cloud our relationship means no making love, Derrick."

"Yes, of –" Derrick realized what she said and he stopped mid-sentence. "No making love? Never?" He gulped.

Massie decided to tease him a little. She conjured up her most sincere expression. "Can you live with that?" She asked seriously.

He thought for a moment. "I'll do it for you."

She tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Derrick?"

He sighed in defeat. "All right. No."

She nodded, apparently pleased. "I meant we should go back to the courting, getting-to-know each other stage since we already started the process backwards – getting married and being intimate first."

Derrick contemplated what she said. "I see no problem with your logic."

"Well, I'm pleased you agree with me." Massie picked her fork up again then she noticed at the corner of her eye that Derrick was distracted as if he had something more to add.

"So does this mean, we're back together? You'll come back to London with me?" He asked, still uncertain.

Massie sighed crossly then turned to look pointedly at him. "Yes, Derrick, we're together again and yes, sir, I'm coming back to London with you. But I might change my decision if you won't touch your food and eat. I wouldn't want to come back to London with a skeleton for a husband." Then she purposely glanced at away from him and stabbed a potato from her plate which she fed to her mouth and nibbled delicately.

She watched from the corner of her eye as Derrick stared at her thoughtfully then slowly a smile grazed his lips. He finally picked his fork up and dug in the tuna casserole she placed on his plate.

Massie allowed herself a small grin.

* * *

**There! Short but just... good? Perfect? Tell me in your reviews. **

**And to answer 's question, this will not end here. As my imagination runs super super long like the Nile River in Egypt, the plot has thickened! Yay! HAHAHA :D**

**To lovely Miss _Brianna_, thank you for that wonderfully said review! I was so touched. :) Thank you!  
**

**I want strawberries with chocolate coating this time! *pouts* HAHA Of course, they have to wrapped around that little paper called REVIEW! :))))**

**P.S We've hit 200! Yay! Haha. My birthday's on 18 and last year when I was still writing Sweet Revenge, the reviews hit 200, too! HAHA I hope by the time my day comes it would be 300! *wink* HAHAHA Wishing for the impossible to come? Yeaaaah. :)  
**


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

She woke up running again.

In one of the dark alleys of the maze.

Alone. Confused. Worried. Frightened.

The killer was a yard behind her, running, chasing, thirsting for blood.

Her blood.

Massie kept running, running, running then she turned to another alley.

Everything went suddenly dark.

And cold.

Icily, chillingly, hair-raisingly cold.

She stopped, anxiously glancing around.

Then that was when she noticed that no one was following her. No ascending footsteps.

But there was another thing she noticed, too.

The entrance to the alley she'd come into had sealed up. Her only exit was to run forward – forward was what she didn't know. The alley seemed to grow in front of her eyes.

She continued running, the initial feeling of relief coursing through her veins, buoying her. She was going to get out from this dreadful place. She was going to…

_Die_.

The word inhabited her mind as the cold seeped inside her pores, filling her with icy dread.

In front of her eyes, the green walls grew thicker and taller, the alley growing darker and darker. Above her the moon glistened but its light seemed to be blocked by an invisible roof. The only light came from that somewhere she was running forward to.

That light was her only glimmer of hope.

She ran and ran.

Then she couldn't breathe.

For some unexplainable reason, the walls in her throat constricted, squeezing her esophagus, making it utterly impossible for her to breathe. Massie felt a fist the size of a humongous rock had been shoved down her throat, asphyxiating her. Behind her chest, her heart ricocheted off her ribs and lungs. The smothering walls of monstrous vines sucked every inch of air and oxygen stored in her lungs, deftly clogging the holes of her nose and sealing her lips shut to make breathing even more impossible than it already was.

Massie's knees hinted that in any minute they would give out.

She pushed herself to run and continue running.

Running…

Running…

Almost there…

Her knees buckled and she went down.

Massie gasped for air.

Hee… hoo… hee…

Hoo… hooo…

Heeeee….

The last thing she heard was a dead wheezing sound before everything went pitch black.

Massie jolted upright. Another nightmare. She woke up, drenched in her own perspiration, her body vehemently quivering, her heart beating as if it were in a race, and with the sheets tangled around her limbs in evidence to how she had furiously fought against her nightmare, twisting and tossing around.

Gasping for air, she surveyed the room and remembering other little yet significant details would make do to convince herself she was back in the real world.

She was on the pristine four-poster bed in the bigger of the two bedrooms at the second landing of the moderately-sized. A few steps from the bedroom, across the hall, was the only other bedroom, a smaller version of the one Massie was in – a four-poster bed at the middle of the room, windows over-looking the river in front of the house, a window-seat positioned in an angle that had a wonderful view of the river, a chaise by the corner which faced the bedroom, a wooden drawer and an armoire for dressing purposes. Beside Massie's bedroom, facing the south part of the house, was the bathroom which they both had to share since it was the only bathroom in the house. It was as equally elegant as the bedrooms, though. The highlight of it was the large bathtub which could fit two people. When Massie first arrived at the townhouse, she already knew why the tub was built and why the bathroom was so lushly constructed.

_Derrick_.

The thought of him must have calmed her nerves because she suddenly felt she could breathe and the speed of her heartbeat seemed to have slowed down.

But the fear - the aftermath of the frightening nightmare – was still there.

Suddenly, the unwelcome reminders of what transpired in her nightmare crept back into her mind and an involuntarily shiver rocked her.

"Ah, hell." She muttered in a very unladylike fashion before she threw the duvet sheets aside and ran to fetch her silk robe from the window-sit which she had occupied earlier the evening. Carelessly flinging it around her, she marched to the door and out of the room into the darkened hall of the second floor. She momentarily paused to listen for sounds which would indicate Derrick was asleep. When she heard nothing, she took it as a sign that her husband was already deep in her slumber.

Without a distinct destination in mind but that she needed to get out of the house and breathe some fresh air to assure herself she wouldn't die of asphyxiation, Massie flew down the staircase and ripped the doorknob off its hinges of the front door.

The evening breeze hit her fully on the face and she sighed.

She wasn't going to die. That was only a nightmare.

She stepped out onto the front porch and lead forward on the railing, staring nothing in particular when her eyes fell on the dark figure beside the river.

She need not squint her eyes for her to know who it was. It seemed that they both couldn't find peace in their sleep and felt the urge to take a midnight stroll, or rather, lounge by the river side.

Without a second thought, Massie crossed the front lawn and made her way to Derrick, making as little noise as possible. She stopped less than a yard from him and had to catch her breath.

The sight of Derrick under the moonlight was nothing but breathtaking. Since he was so absorbed with his own thoughts and hadn't noticed her yet, Massie gave herself the liberty to study him. He was on the ground, his arms braced beside him, his palms against the grass, his long muscled legs stretched out in front of him. He was looking straight, sitting perfectly still. From where she stood, she had the perfect angle of the Greek god before her.

Her eyes followed an invisible line from his hair which was slightly ruffled – evidence of his nasty mannerism which was to rake his hand through his hair whenever he was frustrated – and seemed even darker, to his perfectly proportioned aristocratic nose and jaw, his tantalizing neck, to the sculptured muscles of his biceps and arms, towards his long legs. She couldn't deny the fact that she liked what she saw. He was simply… a natural at everything. Naturally handsome. Naturally provocative. Naturally sensual. Naturally intellectual. Naturally graceful (despite his Norman-like physique).

_And naturally irritating, _Massie thought with a secret smile.

He was naturally perfect.

His voice cut through the haziness of Massie's thoughts.

"If you're done ogling at me, you can sit and join me. I was told I'm more dazzling up front."

_Oh, and naturally arrogant_, Massie mentally added, rolling her eyes, as she made her way to sit beside him.

"I was not _ogling_." Massie told him as she tucked her legs to the side – away from him – and arranged her robe and nightgown to make her decent.

Derrick knew what she was doing and smirked.

Massie caught it. "What are you smirking about?"

"You." He answered simply.

She narrowed her eyes at him, her body slightly angled towards him. "What about me?" she sounded as if she might scold him if he dared to insult her.

"I don't have plans on ravishing you _yet_ so you might as well stop pulling that godforsaken thing you call a robe together and hide the fact that you're only wearing a thin nightgown." Derrick admitted, watching her face for her reaction.

He wasn't disappointed. Her face flushed, her blush creeping up from the swell of her bosoms which he could see since her robe slightly parted and the neckline of her nightgown was indecently low. Her eyes also turned darker, more black than brown, as she registered what he said. "Pervert." She meant to insult him but instead was crestfallen when he burst out laughing.

His reaction fueled her rising temper even more. God, he was so frustrating! Why was he laughing when he could clearly see that she was outraged? Massie let out an exasperated groan and slapped him on the arm.

Derrick seized laughing though he settled for a wicked grin. "Kitty likes to scratch, huh?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

In any other circumstances, Massie would have heaved a furious sigh and retort but instead, she giggled. Which surprised both of them. But she couldn't stop giggling. "Oh, my." She covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm sorry. I haven't giggled for years. Tell me I sounded foolish."

Derrick didn't laugh. Didn't smile. Didn't say something for awhile. He looked at her, watching her blush even more. The sound of her giggle was attractive and it sounded like music to him. The reaction surprised him. Never had he liked women who giggled. He thought them far too artless but in Massie, it made her even more… beautiful to him. Her giggle wasn't a false reaction so as to seduce or attract him. It was an honest reaction. One that he loved.

Finally, he let his lips curve slightly. "No. You sounded far from foolish."

Massie glanced sharply at him, searching his face for any sign that he was lying or teasing her. Nothing but seriousness. Massie was wary. She met his eyes which had been waiting for hers. Those raven orbs gripped her, held her, made her immobile under its intense gaze. They seemed darker tonight. Darker than black. Blacker than midnight. Massie couldn't help but think he fit perfectly in the night, under the midnight sky, bathed with darkness and the moonlight.

They quickly looked away from each other.

They remained silent for the next few minutes yet the silence wasn't the type which Massie would identify as "awkward". It was surprisingly comfortable. They could have stayed on towards the morning, sitting beside each other, looking at the flowing river before them, not talking to each other yet admiring Heaven's creation _together_.

Then a thought entered Massie's mind. She glanced at Derrick and found that he had closed his eyes.

"Derrick?" She tentatively called his name.

"Yes, Massie?" He answered without opening his eyes.

Satisfied that he was awake, Massie ripped her gaze from him and gazed at the river. "You said you noticed little things about me." She began uncertainly.

Derrick opened his eyes and stared at her. Massie could feel his gaze on the side of her face but she didn't meet it. "I did say that. Why?" He sounded mildly confused.

"Well, I wonder what those 'little things' are."

Derrick stared at her for a moment, apparently contemplating, then he glanced away, his eyes thoughtful as they landed on a boulder across the river. Slowly as if he had all the time in the world, Derrick leaned farther back, his elbows braced at his sides. He was still looking forward so Massie decided to follow suit.

Then he started to speak. "I notice that when you disagree with someone, you bite your cheek to suppress a rude remark. I notice that when you wish to be alone in a ballroom or a social event where privacy is impossible, you cross your arms over your chest and look around the room as if you're bored to tears. I notice that when you're nervous, you bite your lip. I notice that when you're really angry, your eyes turn dark, almost as black as mine."

Massie wasn't even aware of these little things but the last sentence caught her off-guard. Her head whipped around, her eyes as big as boulders. "Really? Do my eyes do that?" She could hear the fascination in her own voice.

Derrick chuckled and removed his left arm from his side to Massie's back. He caught a lock of soft amber hair – perfection against his skin – and twirled it around her fingers. "Yes, they do. It's incredible to look at, actually."

Massie's eyes and senses traced the movement of Derrick's fingers, playing with her hair. The effect was like if he touched her skin. It was though he was _caressing_ her. She almost moaned. For pity's sake, she was acting like a hormonal teenager! She needed to keep her nerves – and hormones – locked in a cell in her body before she would break the going-slow-which-includes-no-lovemaking decree she made and turn into a nymphomaniac. In her panic and self-irritation, she pictured herself going about naked, hunting for her sexy husband, with her eyes changing colors and drool dripping down her chin. She mentally closed a door at that horrifying scenario.

Massie nervously chuckled. "I'd wager they turn into coal when you're in the vicinity." She attempted as a joke.

Derrick had been watching the play-by-play of emotions on her face. She had clearly forgotten to put up the shield of composure he had always seen her retreat back to ever since he returned. Apparently, she was a bit more comfortable in his presence than before. He could have kissed her then and there.

He smiled attractively at her. "Oh, yes, they most certainly do." He said in a low, husky voice.

Massie immediately looked away.

His grin widened. "Do you know Josh paints?" He asked, his voice taking the necessary tones. Conversational yet with the right amount of surprise.

She soon forgot her reservations and turned to Derrick, her body half-turning to him in the process, with an entirely astonished expression. "No! He does?"

Derrick laughed at how attractive she could look even when her eyes were as big as the moon and her mouth gaping open in a very unladylike fashion. "Yes. That's how we found you. E was painting you whilst remembering all your conversations – Hades knows how he did that."

"I can't believe he actually paints." She sounded so surprised that Derrick couldn't help the smile that curved his lips.

"Believe me. I share your frustration. Josh and I have been friends since we haven't an inkling of the world and the son of a bitch hadn't told me."

Derrick was taken aback when Massie turned to him with reprimanding eyes. "I really wish you would stop speaking so obscenely."

A frown creased Massie's forehead when Derrick laughed. When he saw it, he decided she wasn't joking. He sighed. "All right. I'll _try_ to stop but I won't promise something I'm sure I'll die first before fulfilling it."

He had sounded so sulkily like a boy who had just been asked to promise not to play with his favorite hounds that Massie cracked a genuine broad smile and leaned down to place a kiss on his cheek. The action had been impulsive, almost unconscious, that it took Derrick off-guard.

Massie pulled away and laughed at the ridiculously bemused expression on his face.

"What was that for?" He asked, touching the spot where her lips had planted.

"For being so accommodating." Massie answered cheerily.

Derrick rolled his eyes with a growl.

Massie laughed again. "But really, I have never imagined Josh as someone who would do something…"

She looked as if she was struggling for the perfect word which wouldn't sound insulting or judgmental. "Worthwhile? Productive? One that does not involve being a licentious ass?"

Massie rolled her eyes at him. She was half-facing him, her face directed at him. "I was going to say 'different'."

Derrick chuckled then sat up straight so that she wouldn't have to crane her neck to look at him. "Well, _mademoiselle,_ I take offense in behalf of my friend. We may be handsome daredevils with a free-spirited no-qualm disposition who spend their time indulging in worldly affairs such as gambling and debauchery but we happen to be a talented set, too."

A mocking expression came upon Massie's face. "Oh? You? Pray tell, _monsieur_, on which field you happen to excel aside from those two ghastly things?"

Derrick answered to the challenge in her voice. "I, _mademoiselle_, happen to be a prodigy in archery, riding, the _piano forte_, fishing and culinary arts."

Massie leaned to the side, away from Derrick a bit, and snorted. "Archery and riding, I can imagine, but piano? Fishing? Cooking?" She snorted again. "I fear I can't see you as someone who would spend time in a music room, playing the piano, or by the lake, waiting for fishes to take the bait, or the least, in the kitchen making breakfast."

Derrick rolled his eyes heavenward. "It doesn't mean when I don't devote myself to such activities that I don't know how to do them."

Massie straightened with a chuckle. "Really, Derrick, stop being so stubborn and just admit you were lying."

Her husband shook his head in frustration and turned to face forward. "You're impossible, woman. Fine. I'll take you fishing tomorrow after breakfast" he glanced sideways at her "- breakfast which I will make, do take note of that – and the moment we return to London, I'll play the piano an sing a song for you."

Massie giggled. "Surely, you jest!"

He glanced at her with a mocking hurt expression on his face. "In matters questioning my abilities, I tell you I don't jest, Massie."

Massie gave up, raising her hands in defeat though her lips were curving. "All right, all right, Mr. Grumpy Old Grump. Say I believe everything you said, will you actually do them?"

"Yes. Am I that unbelievable?" Massie could _hear_ him rolling his eyes.

"Does that question require an answer?" Massie teased.

Derrick turned to her. "Minx."

"Troll!" Then she stuck her tongue at him.

Silence followed what she said and her childish response then they glanced at each other and broke into a raw of guffaws.

"What was that?" Derrick managed to break out through his laughter.

"Oh, my God! I don't know. I'm so sorry. That was the first thing that popped into my mind."

When their laughter died out, silence once again took them over.

"How about you?" Derrick asked after awhile. "Any special traits that can rival mine?"

Massie stared at him as if he were stupid. "Derrick, I'm a woman and a lady. I can cook. Our most trusted footman taught me how to fish. My papa taught me how to ride ever since I had been capable of walking on my own. The son of our stableman taught me how to aim an arrow and hit a target well. And since I was born a lady and therefore, into the _ton_, I play five instruments including the piano."

"Now, you're jesting." He mocked disbelief. "You just said those to make me admit I was lying."

She looked at him pointedly. "Well, were you?"

He looked at her as if she just insulted him. "Hell, no."

She huffed and turned to look forward. "Be stubborn and lie all you want but everything I said was the truth." Then she turned to stick her tongue out at him.

Derrick's delighted laughter echoed through the darkness. "Very cute, Massie." He murmured as he lay back against the grass, folding his hands behind his head. Then he closed his eyes.

Massie glanced around him and found him lying peacefully on the grass. A soft smile curved her lips. She also lay back beside him, her hands lying on top of her chest and she gazed up at the starlit night sky.

Derrick felt the air stir about him and heard Massie's breathing comfortably beside him.

"When did you realize you love me?" Her voice came soft and the genuine wonder in it made him open his eyes and turn his head to the side so he could look at her.

She was gazing up the sky so Derrick decided to do, too. "I don't know." He said. "I think I always knew it somewhere in the back of my mind but I refused to acknowledge it."

"Well, then, when did you 'acknowledge' it?"

He sighed. "The night you left. I knew then that I could never live without you."

"So you realize you do love me?"

"I fairly sense I'm being interrogated for murder."

He could feel her glare at the side of his face. He sighed again then he removed his one hand from behind his head and took Massie's hand which was lying on top of her chest. Massie resisted, at first, struggling to pull her hand away, thinking that he was trying to distract her. Then he bore the entire intensity of his black eyes on her, leaving her powerless under his immaculate eyes. "I've said it already, Massie, and if you're wondering if I decided to play a prank on you when I told you I love you, you're wrong. I love you more than anything in the world. Only you. Never doubt it." He raised Massie's hand to his lips and kissed it then he placed their joined hands on top of his chest and closed his eyes once again.

Massie didn't doubt the sincerity in what he said. She raised herself and looked down at him, loving the look of peace in his expression, the set of his jaw and the small curve of the corners of his lips. God, she loved him so much. She would do everything to make this right.

Her gaze had fixed on his lips when those sinful curves moved. "Christ, Massie, you're starting to raise the hair on my arms with all the creepy staring." He said without opening his eyes.

Massie rolled her eyes at him though he couldn't see it. She decided to be brave and ask him. "Will it be okay if I move closer and put my head on your shoulder?"

Derrick felt his heart grip. _Yes, yes, yes_! He wanted to shout to the world but he curbed the urge and opened his eyes to find her leaning over him. A soft smile grazed his lips. "Of course." He answered softly then watched as she returned his smile with a small one then scooted closer to him and with just a brief moment of hesitation, laid her head on his shoulder.

"Comfortable?" Derrick asked, forcing the croak from his voice.

Massie nodded against him. "Yes. Thank you." Then she closed her eyes and after a few seconds, fell instantly to sleep.

Derrick stayed awake for a few more minutes, thinking of the eventful evening and how everything – despite the past – had worked out into what he had hoped for. He was going to do everything to make this right. He won't let anything happen to her and the growing relationship between them. Because for the first time ever since the were married, they had been entirely open with each other, just talking. Derrick thought he liked that kind of relationship.

He glanced down at the beautiful woman beside him and found that she was sleeping. This was the best thing life could ever give him. A beautiful woman who loved him so much and who he loved and would die protecting and keeping her safe.

Thanking the gods for bringing Massie back to him – or rather, bringing him back to bring back Massie, Derrick rested his chin on the top of Massie's forehead and allowed his eyes to shut.

Together, twined in each others arms, the Duke and Duchess of Redvers slept a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

No nightmares.

Devoid of all disturbing thoughts.

Just… love.

* * *

**I contemplated ending it here because I'm itching to write a new Dramione fic but since I don't have any really wonderful ideas of writing the perfect plot yet so I decided to continue it. Haha. I hope you are all happy.**

**AND IT'S MY BIRTHDAY TODAY! WOOT-WOOT! HAHAHAHA! I'M 16 ALREADY! YAY! :))))**

**And thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I loved it! You are all like the best readers and reviewers ever! And everyone keeps saying that this is one of the best fics ever. You don'tknow how much that means to me but I have to disagree. EVERY FIC IN THIS FANDOM OR EVERY FANDOM ARE THE BEST. HAHAHA. I'm in the mood to be humble today :D**

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**I LOVE YOU, GUYS! :D  
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	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

While the beautiful young Duke and Duchess of Redvers savored their blissful solidarity hours from London, matters in the Bathurst House in Hanover Square remained… tense, for the lack of a better word.

Inside the viscount's study, the two other hopefuls and devotees of the duchess's heart sat opposite each other on the two high armchairs by the hearth, both absorbed in their own thoughts albeit the subject was just the same.

Two hours ago, they'd been in White's, indulging into a game of cards and some bottles of fine brandy shipped from Bulgaria. But they had been too distracted to concentrate in the game. With a shared glance and nod, both gentleman had taken off and proceeded the party in Josh's townhouse where they could drown themseles in their sorrows.

Glancing at the glass he had in his hand and the one in Cam's, Josh stood up and walked up to the bar area where he retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet. With one hand carrying the bottle, he grasped the handle of the ice bucket on the counter then placed the articles on the coffee table between the two chairs by the fireplace. He plopped down on the chair and opened the bottle of liquor.

"Refill?" He asked his friend.

Cam didn't glance away from the fire but he did raise his glass to be refilled by Josh. "By all means. In the mood that I am currently in, I'd gulp the entire bottle down in a flash."

Josh chuckled. He sat back after finishing refilling Cam's glass and raised his own. "Well, if that's the case, then I propose a toast, my friend, for we – London's worst rakehells – have finally found their match in the same woman, nonetheless, who also happens to be our best friend's love and wife."

Cam laughed despite his foul mood. "Hear, hear!" He clunked his glass to Josh's.

"Do you suppose their together now?" Cam asked after awhile.

Josh nodded.

The Marquis of St. James sighed. "I hope she gives him a hell of a time apologizing before she forgives him. That would be the least she can do when she got us both wrapped around her finger like a bunch of pussy-whipped nincompoops."

Josh let out a chuckle. "I wouldn't put my money on that. Something tells me he's been forgiven already."

Cam looked as if he had been slapped. "The lucky son of a bitch while here we are – two handsome gents even richer than Prinny – and the only woman we truly want is someone out of bounds." He swore again.

Josh had more adjectives to describe how he was feeling right now but their privacy was disrupted when a knock came from the door.

"Come in." Josh impatiently called out.

A moment later, the door opened and Masters entered. "A visitor, my lord."

Cam turned to Josh with a look of confusion on his face. "At this time of the night?"

"She's most adamant to grace her presence immediately, my lords." Masters informed.

"She? Her?" Cam echoed the butler's words.

A familiar sound of impatience came from behind Masters. "Yes, _she_, Cameron." A moment later, the Countess of Groveland pushed past the butler and entered the study. "Close the door behind you now, you useless old turd."

Masters turned to his lord, received his nod, and with an impassive face, the gray-haired butler obliged.

"Can't even announce guests properly." Alicia murmured irritably before planting herself on Cam's lap.

Josh smirked at her. "As you can see, sweet, it is your visit that is highly improper."

"And her position." Cam added with an amused grunt before he lifted Alicia who let out a girlish squeal, stood and dropped her quite rudely on the chair before he perched himself on one of the arms of the armchair.

Alicia let out a very unladylike snort, leaning back in the chair. She glanced at both gentlemen who were currently regarding her with amused expectancy. "I've always been improper." She retorted.

The marquis and viscount shared a knowing glance and broke into raucous laughter.

"Point well taken." Josh and Cam agreed simultaneously.

"Idiots." Alicia muttered before taking a drink from Cam's glass of whiskey.

"On what purpose do you carry, Alicia dear, that it simply could not wait for tomorrow to come, pray tell?" Josh asked suavely.

"Oh, for a midnight conversation over whiskey, of course." She sarcastically quipped before she rolled her eyes, consumed the liquor in one gulp and noisily put it on the coffee table. Then in haughty yet bored pose, she nonchalantly said, "I need a good fuck."

Her uncouth words said in such bland manner didn't appall them. They had been friends – in fact, they grew up with each other – far too long and they knew the countess too well. In more ways than one, actually.

Cam took her admission with amusement while Josh merely quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, stop looking at me as if I've gone daft." Alicia crossly told them as both continued to stare at her in amused silence. "I only came here for Josh but since you, St. James, is obviously present and doesn't wish to leave, then you might as well join us."

Her irritation increased when Cam laughed boisterously.

"I apologize, _mademoiselle_, but Josh and I are currently in a state of mourning for our lost love despite how tempting your… offer presents." Cam said cheerily.

That statement brought a lot of questions from Alicia and Cam answered all of them without reservations. Alicia digested everything he said with calmness and from the point of view of a friend of Derrick's. That was all she was to him, anyway, a friend with a few benefits. Nothing more, nothing less.

As Cam filled Alicia in on the happenings between the Redvers ducal couple, Josh sat back in silence, regarding Alicia. True, when they were young, Josh had been obsessed with her. Back then, she was still a young, inexperienced girl who'd been eager to learn and know more about the world. On a particular summer during when they were 17, they'd been in his family's estate where hers was just beside it and they'd consummated their young passion in his family's summerhouse. Josh had thought himself in love with the young Rivera until the news that she was to marry a rich earl thrice her age arrived. The turn of events made him discard his feelings as an adolescent crush – nothing more, nothing less – and turned Alicia cold and distant. They'd drifted apart after that and only when his parents died two years after and he'd assumed the title of viscount then they reunited. But they had made an agreement never to utter a word of their previous romance, for the lack of a better word.

Now as both his friends argued over petty matters, Josh allowed himself the liberty of really looking at her. The years had indeed changed her. Not only physically. She was mature, more distant and cold. But there was something there. Something else.

"What's that on your cheek?"

Alicia and Cam turned to Josh.

"That on your left cheek." Before Josh could stop himself, he reached out and touched the dark – obviously concealed with powder – spot on Alicia's cheek. "This one. It looks like a bruise."

When Josh had suddenly touched in a very simple touch, something inside Alicia fluttered and her breath hitched. She hoped they couldn't hear how fast her heart was suddenly beating. It would do her and her reputation no good. She fought the shiver that threatened to escape her and nonchalantly swatted his fingers away. "That's nothing. I accidentally bumped into the window at home earlier." She chuckled although a bit nervously. "Clumsy me." Then before Josh could quiz her further, she turned back to the somewhat distracted Cam to resume their argument about how Derrick's wife would make him pay for his transgressions.

But Josh wasn't convinced with her explanation. He didn't know why but something told him that the beautiful sophisticated vixen now inside his study was just a mask.

And he also tried to ignore the strange sensation in his fingers which had just touched her soft, creamy cheek.

Christ. The brandy had probably turned him loony.

* * *

Massie woke to the pleasant sound of birds chirping outside and to the glaring sunlight. Opening her eyes, she found that the curtains had been drawn to the side and the clear glass window bestowed carte blanche to the sun and disturb her sleep. Stretching her body languidly, she noted that her skin felt good against the soft silk sheets.

And then she realized she was on her bed, in her bedroom.

A rush of last night's events came to her, refreshing her memory but she hadn't remembered walking to her bed. She recalled that she had fallen asleep in Derrick's arms by the riverside. He must have carried her to the bed.

In an impulse, Massie touched the space beside her.

No, he didn't sleep beside her.

With a sigh – half-relieved, half-disappointed – Massie rose, searched her slippers and put on her robe. The same robe she had on last night.

Huh. How nice and gentlemanly of Derrick to consider taking off her robe, seeing that she would be uncomfortable sleeping in it. But then again, maybe he took pleasure in disrobing her, the pervert that he was.

No! He wasn't like that anymore. He's changed.

Dismissing these thoughts, Massie left her bedroom, paid a visit at the bathroom to do her daily essential morning routine then started her trip downstairs.

She paused just in front of the only other bedroom and unthinkingly, opened the door a little to check on Derrick.

She found that his room was empty.

Closing the door, she went down in search for him.

She found her husband in the least likely place he would normally be, doing the last thing she would ever expect him to do.

A sound coming from the kitchen made Massie pause as she was at the bottom step of the staircase. Then that was when the smell hit her.

Feeling slightly dazed, Massie allowed her senses to carry her to the source of the delicious aroma of paradise.

The sight that had greeted her at the kitchen stunned her into speechlessness and immobilization that she paused in the doorway.

Nothing had prepared her for this.

Her Don Juan husband had his back at her, facing the stove where a pot was boiling on. He had some of the cupboards open ad was chopping some sort of vegetable. Another pot was on the counter beside him.

He looked so out of place in the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of black breeches, shirtsleeves which he had rolled up to his elbows and –

A gurgle of laughter escaped Massie before she had the time to conceal it.

In reaction, Derrick jumped but thankfully, did not cut his finger. He cursed. "You do make a career from sneaking up on me, don't you, Massie?" He sounded only mildly irritated as he swung around to face the giggling woman in the threshold. The joyous abandon in Massie's eyes and laughter shoved his irritation aside. "Pray tell, _ma petite_, what has gotten you so amused?" He leaned his hip back against the counter.

"You're barefoot, Derrick."

Black brows rose in confusion. "Yes. I am perfectly aware that I am. I deem that it is not something one would amusing, however."

"And you're cooking."

Derrick rolled his eyes. "Yes. What else would I do with a knife, pot and vegetables?" He returned to his cooking. "And, besides, I promised to cook breakfast for you, did I not?"

Massie moved to stand beside Derrick. "Yes, but I didn't really expect you to actually keep your promise. Oh, my. You are actually cooking!" She added in a delightful gasp when Derrick added the vegetable to the pot of boiling pasta sauce.

"Thank you very much, _wife_. Your faith in my abilities astounds me." Derrick said sarcastically. "Move over."

Massie obliged so that he could stir the sauce better. She stood behind him, peeking at what he was doing over his shoulder.

"Well, _husband_, I've never really pegged you as someone with culinary skills. What are you cooking?"

"Pasta. I've made strawberry gelato for dessert and I found some wine down the cellar. This place was built for romantic rendezvous." He added with a shake of his head.

"Indeed." Massie agreed. "Papa bought this house from a friend after he and mama got married. The renevation took five months then he gave it to mama on her birthday."

"Hm." Was all Derrick said as he contemplated this.

"Isn't it too early to have pasta and ice cream?" Massie questioned.

Derrick glanced back at her. "Darling, it's nearly lunchtime and besides, I'm starving, I haven't had a real meal for the past week, and you're far too skinny for my liking. I need to fatten you up."

Massie gasped. "Good grace! I overslept too much! What in heaven's name is wrong with me?"

Derrick threw her an amused glance. "A few more hours of sleep doesn't mean you have acquired brain damage, Massie. Especially, when one is often dead on her feet in exhaustion like you are."

Massie narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. "Thank you for that shrewd obersvation, _sir_, but I think I should change out of my sleeping clothes now."As she was walking away, she added in a louder voice. "And I don't wish to get fat, I tell you."

"Well, you have to if I wish to keep up with me later." Derrick mysteriously said.

Massie halted by the doorway to turn back to him but found he had his back at her again. "Keep up with you? Whatever do you mean?"

Derrick swung around to regard her with mock indignation. "Why, we're going fishing and riding, of course! I remember that I specifically told you last night. Have you gone daft after too much sleep, woman?"

Massie didn't midn the insult since she knew he wasn't serious. She squealed in delight and without hesitation or without really thinking, she ran and flung her arms around Derrick. Though surprised, Derrick managed to place his hand on the counter to keep them from outbalancing. Derrick was about to wrap an arm around her waist when Massie pulled away and with one last dazzling smile for him, left the kitchen to bathe and change.

Derrick laughed in response to her youthful exuberance and turned back to his sauce, whistling a gay tune.

The meal Derrick had concocted for them had been spectacular, utterly delightful and delicious. Derrick had laughed when Massie had told me he was probably better than Ramsey but if he would tell any soul, Massie would make sure the last thing he saw would be her fist.

After they'd finished lunch and cleaned everything up – despite how profuse Massie told him to sit down and let her clean up, he still helped her – Derrick had gone upstairs to fetch and put on his boots before they'd headed out to fish.

The early hours of the afternoon, after lunch, had been spent, fishing and laughing and chatting cheerily by the river. Derrick had found two old fishing poles at the basement of the house and cleaned it for them to use. They'd enjoyed their time so much that they almost forgot that they were supposed to go riding.

Presently, the couple was racing on Derrick's greys up to the hill. Derrick had never known that his wife was a skillful rider – they'd never really had that kind of relationship where they could tell each other anything and get to know each other. Now, riding just a few paces behind her, he watched as she was hunched quite gracefully forward on the horse, throwing her head back once in a while to laugh delightfully.

She was truly a beautiful creature. In more ways than one.

They halted when they reached the top of the hill. Massie had come first, of course, since Derrick made sure of it. Albeit she knew he had held back, she still laughed triumphantly. They turned their horses around so they can look over the river and the house. Derrick steered his horse closer to Massie until their knees were almost brushing.

"Goodness, I've never felt so exhilirated in my entire life!" Massie said with a laugh.

Derrick glanced at her and merely grinned.

Massie also grinned and stretching her arms upward, she let out a contented sigh and turned herself on her horse to face him.

Derrick followed suit, reading the intent on her face. He knew she was about to tell him something so he turned to her with an expression which clearly meant he was waiting. But she appeared like she was having difficulty in forming the perfect words for her thoughts. He took the time studying her face which was bathed in the late afternoon sunlight.

She had worn her hair down for their ride. It flowed down to her waist, swaying about her through the wind. A many stray locks clung to her skin, the slight sweat serving as an adhesive. If she were some other woman, the sight of sweat would have drove him away or ran him off. But the sight of Massie drenched in sweat, her clothes and hair clinging to her like a second skin, was like a glimpse of heaven. Beautiful and magnificent yet true and pure.

Though Massie stared at the scenic view before them, she watched her husband from the corner of her eye. The day he had planned for her had been nothing but perfect. She couldn't recall when she had ever been so happy in her entire life. She had never felt so free. She had never enjoyed life as much as she had enjoyed the hours she spent with Derrick awhile ago. He had been so understanding, so funny, so good, and so compliant to her but she could tell he was trying to become someone he _thought_ she would love. Yes, she appreciated him trying but she didn't want him to become an altogether different person. In fact, she didn't want him to change. She just wanted him to love her truly and be faithful to her.

And there was something else she wanted.

"Derrick?" Massie's voice sounded like a siren's song.

Derrick didn't yet meet her eyes but kept his on the locks of hair clinging to her forehead. "Yes, Massie?"

"Remember everything I said last night?" She leaned closer, her eyes on his lips.

"Crystal clear." He also leaned a fraction closer, his eyes on her lips.

"Do you remember what I said about taking things slow which includes not to make love yet?" A soft whisper.

A corner of Derrick's lips curved though without humor. "How can I forget? It narrows my eyes to slits when I remember it." He whispered back.

Their lips were less than an inch now from each other. If the horses hadn't standing right next to each other, they would have fallen down to the ground already, the way they were leaning towards each other. Massie's eyes slowly dropped as she spoke in a voice similar to the wind: hushed and barely audible. "I change my mind." Then her soft lips connected with his and fused.

This time, it was the same yet different. The feeling of their lips against each other was still the same – wonderful. The battle between their tongues was the same – magical. Their tastes were stll the same – palatable.

Yet different. It was as if – despite all these "still the same" – the kiss felt new, fresh. Because they, themselves, were different. That was the reason why. They were different in a sense that they knew what they wanted, they knew what they needed, they knew what they loved. And they were willing to fight for it. The want, the need, and most importantly, the love.

Minutes, hours, – hell – days might have passed and they still might have not noticed the shift of time. The kiss only got deeper and deeper and deeper.

Finally, Massie pulled away but rested her forehead against Derrick's. Her eyes still closed, she dragged in a deep, harsh breath as she told her heart to slow down its beat and let her recuperate from that kiss.

After awhile, her eyes opened and she blinked as she found Derrick's eyes looking straight at her. His eyes blazed with passion and she could see and feel the extent of his desire. Looking down, she laughed at what she saw.

"Now, what?" Derrick asked hoarsely.

Somehow, unbeknowsnt to her, during their kiss, she had climbed from her horse onto Derrick's lap and had her legs wrapped around him. But she merely shook her head at him. "Nothing." She stroked his hair. "You look even more handsome when your hair's tussled."

Derrick rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. I know that already. But don't try to distract me. Did you just say that you changed your mind about us not making love yet?" He asked. Just to make sure.

Massie gazed at him through hooded lids and raised an amused eyebrow at him. "I did." She whispered wickedly.

Derrick didn't need to be told twice because he was a hundred-fold – no, a million-fold – sure that she was sure. He bent her – his arm anchoring her back – and attacked her lips like a hungry lion who had been deprived of food and water for years.

Because that was how he felt. And now, the lion was unleashed, along with his lioness, and there was no holding back.

It was a lovely, passionate day in the jungle world of the lion and lioness Redvers as they ravished each other in ways that would appall the clergy and have them executed.

* * *

**Ah, there. Happy them. If there are some of you who are adverse to the fact that he and Massie finally succumbed to their desires, well, let me just say that after all our favorite couple have gone through, don't you think they deserve a bit of a break? Besides, not everything remains as peaceful and perfect as it is now. You'll just have to stay in tune for the next chapter to know what I am talking about. *wink wink***

**Okay, I know I owe everyone a big apology for not updating but I have my excuse. Our blasted internet connection have gone loony lately and it just got fixed. **

**And thank you for all the amazing reviews! Thank you to all those who greeted me Happy Birthday! I LOVE YOU, GUYS! :D**

**Don't forget to leave a review, please! :))))  
**


	25. Chapter 24

**A/N: I apologize for the very long wait. I've been too busy. I promise to update regularly from now on.  
**

**Disclaimer: Nothing I own.**

Chapter 24

The lioness woke up in sheer bliss the next morning but she didn't open her eyes yet, afraid that she would see something that would ruin her utter happiness. Snuggled comfortably against Derrick's side, his arm wrapped possessively around her while her head laid on his chest and her arm flung over his waist, Massie savored and drank in the moment.

The beauty of their lovemaking – or rather, lovemaking_s_ since they had gone at it until the wee hours of morning and didn't even notice the fact that they hadn't had dinner – had brought her tears and the memory of it now, as she thought of it with a smile, still made her eyes water. But she quelled the urge to cry again, no matter for what purpose. She was done crying. She had decided when she'd accepted Derrick back that she would try to make herself happy now. She would no longer neglect herself.

So Massie didn't cry. She smiled.

Slowly and carefully, she removed her arm from Derrick's waist and extracted herself from his grasp before rising to get off the bed. She put on her robe which was lying carelessly on the floor along with other articles of clothing and quietly slipped out of the room to go to the bathroom next day. After she had finished with all the necessary things she had to do – including taking the loo, trying to sort the tendrils in her hair through running her fingers through the soft tresses, and washing her face – she went back to her bedroom and tried to silently creep inside without waking her husband.

Her efforts of returning discreetly back to his side were all in vain since said husband had already been out of bed and was tearing down the place in search for his breeches.

She didn't miss the tension that had left Derrick and the relief that had replaced it and etched his features.

As soon as she saw her, he abandoned his search for a pair of breeches and stood in all his naked glory by the bedside, his hands clenched on his hips. He had woken up, expecting to find her beside him but when he'd rolled over and tried to hug her closer to him, he found that he was groping for air. When he'd cracked his eyes open, he discovered that he was alone in the bed and in the room. He'd gone berserk after that. He'd thought she had regretted the night before and had decided to run away again. He'd been afraid that he would never see her again and he'd tore the whole place to look for a pair of breeches which seemed bent on not being found.

Massie caught the anger in his eyes and stance and closed the door calmly behind her. Then with a deep breath, she turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"_Where__ the__ hell__ did__ you __go?_" Derrick snarled.

Massie tilted her head to the side, a frown marring her forehead. "To the bathroom." She answered, her tone laced with confusion. "Where did you think I went?"

She saw his anger leave him and the relief was back again. Something else was in his eyes but he quickly concealed it with scowling at her. "I thought I lost you again." he said, trying to mask the fear in his voice.

Massie's eyes widened for a moment as she registered what he said and then she smiled – a small, understanding smile – and slowly made her way to Derrick who was still trying to keep his frown on his face. Even when she stood close to him and wrapped her arms around his waist but she still kept her smile. "I didn't leave you." She said as she glanced up at him. "Why would you think I would? Didn't I promise to give us a second chance to work our marriage out?"

He glared at her but his arms moved from his side to wrap themselves around her petite frame. "I know." He growled, frustration dripping in every word. "But what was I supposed to think when I found that I was alone on bed?"

Massie pulled away slightly to give him an amused look. "That I went to the bathroom or the kitchen?"

"You are getting a kick out of this, aren't you?" then he raised an eyebrow in a very menacing way.

Before Massie could react, she had already been thrown on the bed and Derrick had landed on top of her in a thud. If he were some other person, Massie would have screamed and kicked him violently. But this was her husband and instead of feeling anger, she laughed mirthfully as he held her down.

His lips descended upon hers and she eagerly moved her own against his. The kiss that was supposed to be just a kiss turned into something much more passionate.

Almost an hour later, Massie and Derrick lay with Massie on top of Derrick, both completely delirious and sated. Derrick was staring up at the canopy, idly stroking Massie back, while Massie stared at him with her hands stacked on his chest and her chin propped up against them.

"I'm sorry." She suddenly said.

The question jarred Derrick from his thoughts and he looked down at her, meeting her eyes. "What for?" He asked, confused as to what she could possibly be apologizing for.

"For not telling you where I went. I should have been more considerate."

He smiled. "You're forgiven, then." Then he kissed her forehead. But when he pulled away, he saw that she was looking at him pointedly and expectantly. "What?"

She glared prettily at him. "Are you really dense or simply insensitive?" She asked irritably.

He feigned innocence. "What about?"

Her right hand which was on top of her left hand stacked on his chest gave him a hard pinch.

He flinched and then cursed. "What was that for?" He captured her hand and guided it to rub the spot she just pinched.

"You're supposed to apologize for flipping out!"

"Oh, that." Then he smirked.

"Derrick!"

He rolled his eyes. "All right, all right. I apologize for, as you put it, flipping out. I promise to, at least, listen to your side before flipping out."

Derrick trapped her thighs with his when he felt her move to kick him in a very desirable yet painful place of his anatomy, laughing as he saw the frustrated expression on her face.

Massie raised her eyes and met his, seeing the humor in them and knew he was just teasing her. Still, she gave him one last glare before propping her chin back on top of her hands.

"Derrick, can I ask you something?" She asked after a few moments of silence passed.

"Hmm?"

The question had been eating at her since the moment she saw him at her kitchen the other night ago but she'd tried to put it as long as possible because she apprehensive on how he would react. Or rather, how the question would affect their newfound relationship. Would it make him angry that she mentioned it? Would he answer it calmly but a tension will be created between them? Before she could confuse herself any further, she asked hastily. "Do you still plan on putting up a derby track?"

Derrick's eyes focused on her and studied the emotions swarming through her amber eyes. Anger? None. Hurt? None. She was simply… asking. Curious, maybe. "I don't know."

But she wouldn't give up. She had thought of this hard and for awhile now. "Do you _want_ to? Is it really important to you?" Honest curiosity.

He stared into her eyes then stroked her cheek with his fingers. "You are what is important to me now and forever."

Massie rolled her eyes, swatting his fingers away, but she kissed him briefly to rid the flash of hurt that glazed his eyes. "I know that but I don't want you changing your plans because we're back together. That's another case I wish to discuss with you." She added before he could interrupt her. When he read the intent in her eyes, he remained quiet, willed her to continue what she was saying. Massie sighed inwardly in relief. She grasped his hand which was stroking her hair and held it tightly between them. "I appreciate the… how kind and obliging you've been. You don't know how much that means to me."

Derrick was about to speak when she pursed his lips with her thumb and index finger. She ignored the almost disbelieving look on his face. "But I don't want you to keep torturing yourself for running to my every bid. I loved you before despite your flaws and after everything that has happened, I still love you. All I want from you, Derrick, is love and fidelity. That's all. I won't deprive you your late night bonding with Josh and the other men as long as you'll stay true to me. I don't think I will be strong enough to go through _that_ again."

"I would never –"

"That's all I want." She finished.

As soon as Derrick was sure she was done talking, he bent his head and took her lips in his. He kissed her hard and enough to rob her of her wits. When he finally pulled away, he took male satisfaction from the disgruntled expression on Massie's flushed face. "I promise. I will never want anything other than you."

"So, will you still pursue your plan about the derby track?" She pressed.

He sighed. "Yes, I will but I still have to sit down and plan it out well if I want it to top the one at Newmarket."

Massie smirked. He couldn't help but think that her smirk was almost identical to his. "With me as your wife, that wouldn't be a problem." Then she hauled herself off him and rose from the bed. "As you've already mentioned it, I could only imagine the pile of work waiting for me back at the capital."

Derrick scooted up the bed and sat against the headboard, watching as she moved around the room. "Where do you think are you going?" He asked a little too harshly when she made a move to the door.

Her hand paused on the door and she glanced to find him watching her, wondering what she was about to do. "To the bathroom, of course. After all, aren't we returning to London today?"

He was slightly surprised at this. He knew they would have to return to London but he didn't know it would be this soon. They just got back together, for Christ's sake. He didn't want their happiness be tampered by whatever kind of rubbish waiting for them in London. He loved the peace and the privacy they have had in the river house. With all the work and social functions waiting to pounce at them back at home, Derrick was afraid that they would be too busy to spend time with each other.

He recognized the selfishness in his thoughts. Goddamn it, but he wanted Massie all to himself. He didn't want to share her with the members of the _ton_. He didn't want to share her with anyone. She was _his_.

Suppressing the growl that was threatening to escape his throat, Derrick got off the bed and searched for his robe. "Well, then, if that is the case, then we should get going." Despite his reservations on coming back to London so soon, he didn't want to push her away with his selfishness. Instead of pitching a bitch-fit, he spared her a wicked glance. "From my quick tour around the house the night I arrived, I observed that the size of the tub could fit more than two people." He started in a very innocuous voice. "Care to test that theory with me?"

Massie stared at him for such a long time that he fought the urge to fidget under her gaze. God, what was happening to him? He was acting like the woman in their relationship. He must have lost his manhood during their night of sexual Olympics. Memories of last night's romps invaded his mind and filled him with longing and need. Seconds later, he felt a stirring in his groin.

_Well,__ I __sure__ still__ have__ my __manhood_, he thought, wryly amused.

Too absorbed in his thoughts and inner monologues, Derrick didn't see Massie walking up to him until he felt her soft, warm hand on his chest. She was a good several inches shorter than him so he had to tilt his head down to meet her eyes.

And found that they were soft and her lips curved in a soft smile.

Slowly, her eyes never leaving his, she rose to her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his in the faintest almost ghost-like caress. She gazed one more time in his eyes before she pressed her lips more firmly against his, plastering her body more insistently against his hard one. She poured out all her emotions and thoughts into the kiss, willing him to respond as he was still frozen in shock at her sudden brazenness.

When her hands reached up to clasp themselves around his neck and one of her long fingers curled around the hair on his nape, Derrick snapped out of his stupid stupor and with a growl, wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and brought her closer to him, if that was even impossible since not even a piece of parchment could pass through their bodies. Derrick responded to her enthusiasm and her staggering emotions with kind.

As husband and wife lost themselves in a pool of delicious oblivion, Derrick realized what Massie was trying to say in her kiss. She must have guessed his earlier doubts about returning to London so soon. As if words were being exchanged as their mouths and tongues fused, Massie was telling him that this time wouldn't be the same as the last. If he thought that she would allow society to dictate how they should run their lives, he thought wrong. If he thought that what other people said about them would affect their relationship gravely, then he thought wrong. If he thought that they would have to compete with work and the activities of the _ton_ for time to spend with each other, then he thought wrong_._If he thought that they would anything before them, then he thought wrong.

He was wrong with all those negative thoughts because unlike the last time they were together as man and wife in front of the beau monde, they now possessed a weapon with them that could rival and thwart all other opposing factors.

_Love_.

Massie pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily, and watched as he tried to regain normal breathing, his eyes still closed. As if he could feel her staring at him, he opened his eyes and met hers. His head slowly came down and his lips touched her forehead in a sweet and gentle kiss.

"Promise?" She felt his lips move against her forehead as the soft query came out of him.

The warmth of his tight embrace, the sweetness and simplicity of his kiss, the desperation he so anxiously tried to hide from her brought tears to her eyes — tears which she silently sucked back to where they came from.

She loved this man with her whole heart and she would never let anything break them apart, even if it was the last thing she was going to do.

"I promise," she whispered in response as she felt a lone tear escape down her cheek.


End file.
